I went in my parents’ room to ask Mom if she wanted me to make her breakfast, and she mentioned that she heard noises earlier and was wondering if it was my cat running around.
Me: Oh, it was probably me wrestling with clothing.
Me: There’s a student-run organization on campus, the equivalent of the GSA down here--
I stopped at the confused look on her face.
Me, hurrying to clarify: Oh, sorry. Gay-straight-alliance.
Her: Gotcha. I was thinking, Geological Society of America?
Me: Ha, not quite. Anyways, I didn’t really have the time to be involved with them this year, but a couple of my roommates were, so they helped keep me up-to-date with what was going on. They told me that the council was buying binders for people, and they asked me if I wanted one. Of course I was like, heck, yeah! You know, they normally cost, like, fifty bucks, so getting one for free was almost too good to be true, so I was really excited.
She stared at me for a moment.
Her: Wow. Fifty bucks for a notebook?
I busted up laughing.
Me: No, no, Mom, binders are clothing. You know, they bind your chest. They’re made out of special material so you don’t hurt yourself or warp your ribs.
Her: Ooh. I was like, what, is it plated in gold?
Me: I’m sorry, I keep forgetting you’re not familiar with the terminology.
Her: I don’t know about that, but you have to remember I’m a high school teacher; every morning I tell the kids, pull out your binders! Let me check them to make sure they’re organized!
The moral of the story is that it helps no one when words have multiple, vastly different meanings.
I have no idea what I'm doing.