Dirty

Me: The dirty picture is the number to beat.
…
Why did I say that?

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Respect

Friend: Those of you have lost the respect of the Sand People.

Repeatedly

Me: In my dream, you were supposed to be at school, but I found you at a drugstore instead. You wouldn’t tell me why you were there, and you lost electronics time for eight days for repeatedly lying about it. When I was taking you back to school, you didn’t want to go, so you laid down in the street and almost got hit by a car. And you lied that you were friends with the FBI director, but you didn’t know his name.

How

Student: I have a Punjabi. I know how to handle this.

Morse

Twelve-Year-Old: Stop giving me Morse code!

Bats

Seven-Year-Old: It’s Sunday, and there’s already screaming bats.

Rolling

Wife: Rolling knife transport—that’s a good idea.

Very Inaccurate

Me: The response letter contains a breezy dismissal of the results of [paper] because “astrophysical polarization measurements limiting the space birefringence are very inaccurate,” in spite of the fact that that paper’s bounds on left/right asymmetries in a class of gravitational interactions are more than twenty orders of magnitude sharper than the measurements discussed in the current manuscript.

Anthem

Me: Why is Order of the Arrow song sung to the tune of the Tsarist national anthem?

Sprayed

Wife: I just sprayed the wall with vitamin D. It’s fine!