July 21, 2009

Brother-in-Law: If you think it needs anything else, go ahead and add it.
Wife: No, it tastes fine.
Me: Wait! What are you doing? Are you eating raw turkey?!
Wife: Yes…
Me: You can eat raw beef. Don’t you know you can’t eat raw turkey?!
Wife: No, what’s wrong with it?
Me: Salmonella! Criminy!
Brother-in-Law: I know Sal. He’s a good guy.
Me: That’s Sal Mineo.



July 20, 2009

Wife: [drops carrot] Oh, poopie!
Me: Come on… er, Hang on, Poopie;
Poopie, hang on!

Brother-in-Law: “Poopie hang on”—is that what happens when you’re constipated?
Wife: Ewww.
Brother-in-Law: Okay, who wants dinner?


July 19, 2009

Mother-in-Law: Anybody want anything else? We have blueberries, bananas.
Five-Year-Old: I’d like a banana. I’d like a banana, in case I decide I want it.
Wife: In case you decide you want it?
Me: I don’t think she really wants a banana.
Wife: She wants it just in case.
Brother-in-Law: For a banana emergency?
Wife: Yeah.
Brother-in-Law: Banana emergency?
Wife: What are you supposed to do when the chimpanzees or the capuchins attack?
Brother-in-Law: A capuchin invasion?
Wife: “Quick, break the glass—the emergency banana. Oh no! There’s only one!”
Me: What?
Brother-in-Law: Whatever.
Wife: You’ll see when the monkey invasion comes.

Knife Fight

July 18, 2009

Me: I’ve never been in a knife fight.
Five-Year-Old: I have!


July 17, 2009

Wife: Stop snorting the garlic powder!
Brother-in-Law [sniffs garlic in jar]: Mmmm. Do we have a hundred dollar bill?
Me: Only a five.
Brother-in-Law: We’re not high class.
Me [pours out garlic, rolls bill, and snorts]: Hmmm, not much.
[sniffs to clear nose] Oh my God! It wasn’t so bad at first—
Wife: Did you actually snort it?
Brother-in-Law: I didn’t think you were going to actually snort it!
Me [blows nose]: Yech.
Wife: Oh gross. Get that away from me!
Me: You can see it in my snot! It wasn’t so bad—
Brother-in-Law: Today, we’re not really seeing the MIT smarts.
Wife: He has a degree, I swear.
Me: After the first snort, it wasn’t bad, but then it—it felt funny around my nose, and I sniffed and—oh, God.
Wife: Brilliant.
Me: I have to write this down, while it’s still fresh in my mind.
Wife: It’s not fresh in your mind. It’s powdered in your mind.

Numerical Order

July 16, 2009

Me [looking at stove controls]: Is 2 higher than 3?
Wife: Yes, of course. Why did you turn both of them on?
Me: Oops.
Wife: They’re linear. Why would 3 be higher than 2?
Me: The Archimedian property of the real numbers—er, of the integers.


July 15, 2009

Wife: You’re a bad hammock-mate.
Me: You used to tickle me in the hammock.
Wife: I did not!
Me: Yes, you did.
Wife: Calumnious slander.


July 14, 2009

Five-Year-Old: Oh, I forgot. Dad, can you get up and give me a race?
Me: Not right now.
Five-Year-Old: Please?
Wife: Your Dad needs to rest, so he can run fast and beat you.
Five-Year-Old: Hmph.
Wife: Sorry, he needs to rest so he can go slow and you’ll win.
Five-Year-Old: Noooo, he’ll go fast if he rests-es.


July 13, 2009

Linx the Sontaran

Linx the Sontaran

Wife: You look like a Sontaran.
Me: I look like a Sontaran?
Wife: When you do your neck like that.


July 12, 2009

Wife: You have those serious authorial photos on the backs, wearing a sweater with elbow patches. I wonder if you can get underwear with elbow patches.
[As I start writing this down] Your peach bag isn’t big enough.
Butt patches. Tweed underwear! Hahahahaha!