What’s the Best Time Your Family Has Ever Trolled You?

Sisters: can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em, right??? Wrong. Sisters are nothing but terrible troll monsters who should be banished to live under bridges without access to the United States Postal Service.

Last night, after a crushing episode of Masterchef Junior, I walked home and, on the way up to my apartment, checked my mail. There were a bevy of envelopes — — none of my roommates get freelance checks in the mail so I guess the day’s delivery is less “MAYBE IT’S MONEY THIS TIME!!!” and more “mail” — — but one envelope stood out. The handwriting looked familiar; rotund, loopy. I checked the return address: “The Greatest Sister in the World” was the sender.

I have four younger sisters; I’ve written about them in the past but they haven’t gotten any better. Four of us have moved out and only my youngest sister remains with my parents. This is the year that all five of us have iPhones, so we text constantly. On Monday my youngest sister sent us all a ten second video of her microwaving something. All my sisters responded with crying laughter emojis. I didn’t get it. (Do you?? Please email me if so.)

Anyway, we still talk a lot, as far as siblings go, so I wasn’t terribly surprised to get a card from one of them. I stuck it between my teeth (gross, I know) and trudged up my stairs. I threw my coat on the table, and remembered the date — — oh, it’s only three days after Valentine’s Day! She must’ve sent me a Valentine’s Day card!!! How sweet.

Then I opened the card.



God. Excellent troll. Troll-tastic. Ten million points to Gryffintroll. There’s nothing I can do to top it. She has bested me once again (last time, she took a series of selfies on my brand new phone detailing her discovery and addiction to lighting matches — — 70 in all. There was a real narrative).

Anyway, I am not the only one who’s ever been trolled, so now I want to know: what’s the best time your family has ever trolled you? You can respond in the comments or tweet me or post some coded Instagrams, up to you, I’m not your dad. I’m so curious!! I asked Anna, and she said: “When MSN messenger was a thing, there were accounts you could add: smarterchild, smartrobot, that sorta thing. They were bots, but you could talk to them and they would answer. One day I get a notification that somebody called “Smarterbot” wanted to chat and I was bored because I literally had no friends in middle school and never did anything fun so I was like, “Let’s chat to the internet robot!” The convo started goofy and then it started asking me personal secrets and obviously when the robot asks, you answer, and things started to get real and long story short smarterbot was my brother and his friends. You could see where that was going.” Cripes.

Haley could not be reached, but I imagine her answer is something along the lines of “birthing me in Canada instead of a real country.”

Now you go!