At Grandmas. (My actual Grandma, not my friend 'Grandma'!)
Brother: My hair is receeding.
Mother: No it's not. It's fine, don't be silly.
Brother: It is look!
Grandma: It's fine!
Me: It really is fine!
Grandma: If anything your brothers hair is worse. Look.
She pushes my hair back.
Grandma: See, his hair has receeded much more than yours.
Grandma: Oh don't you start.
Brother: Calum's hair is fine. I'm losing mine...
Grandma: Cal's forehead is much bigger than yours. See!
Brother: Mum, when are you going to have a baby?
Mother: What? Where did that come from?
Brother: I want a little baby to play with
Father: Well make your own!
Brother: I might get a mohican
Grandma: Don't be such a nit!
Brother: Well not like a propper mohican, like a flat one.
Me: Like a mohawk?
Brother: No like a mohican but not shaved...
Grandma: So what is this magazine you're going to work for called?
Grandma: And what do they do?
Me: It's a lifestyle magazine
Grandma: Well what kind of lifestyle
Grandma: Like movie stars and things?
Me: Yeah! Movie stars and things...
Mother: Cal, your fringe is all square
Me: I know the hairdresser messed it up
Mother: I want to cut it. And the sides. It's awful
Me: Thanks Mum...
Brother: My hair line is receeding
Father: Oh shut up! Look at mine!
Grandma: Don't be so stupid. You all have lovely hair.
*On the drive home we pass our old house*
Father: Oh look my daffodils have come up nice
Mother: Your daffodils? They're not yours anymore
Father: Well I bloody well planted them.
Mother: We sold the house though darling
Father: They look like they need a good water
Mother: Don't slow down, they'll think we're stalking them or something. Drive past quick!
Father: Do you think they'd mind if I went round to water the plants?
Good times, but seriously one word. Facepalm.