Russian

Fourteen-Year-Old: I need more Russian Voldemort in my life.

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Critically

Friend’s Son: So, a critically peaceful night.

Monitor

Me: I can smell that guy’s B. O. through my monitor.

Doubt

Me: [Six-Year-Old], what are you doing?
Six-Year-Old: Nothing.
Fourteen-Year-Old: I doubt it.
Me: Come back here if you’re not doing anything.
Fourteen-Year-Old: Press “F” to doubt.

Anger

Fourteen-Year-Old: Frick! I did it wrong! Anger, anger. High score, high score.

Fetuses

Me: They’re fetuses engaged in a Satanic ritual.

Acknowledging

Me [reading WordPress notification]: “You’ve posted four days in a row.” I’ve posted, like, a thousand days in a row!
Eleven-Year-Old: Well, it’s just acknowledging you. You are now a human being.

Descended

Me: My knowledge of Hebrew has descended to practically nothing.

Acid

Me: When we get home, I’ll find you a good strong acid video.

Goggles

Six-Year-Old: This looks like a Diglett wearing goggles.