Tummy

Six-Year-Old: You have two shirts: one made of hair and one made of tummy.

Prince

Wife: It smells like butt in here.
Me: You could have put his new diaper on.
Wife: I was busy. He was trying to make me eat the prince.
…
I ate the prince.

Moisture

Me: He looks like he could use some lotion on his face. It looks dry around his mouth.
[pointing to diaper] All his moisture must be coming out down here.
Two-Year-Old: That’s right.
Wife: What a boy thing to say.

Dog

Wife: Butch, what is the matter with you?
Me: “I’m a dog. Duh! I’m gonna go eat some garbage.”

Boring Man

Me: I’m just a boring man sometimes, aren’t I?
Wife: Yep.
Me: I could start my own music festival: the Boring Man festival.
Wife: Where nothing is on fire.
…
Nothing but Phillip Glass compositions.
…
“See you at Boring Man.”

Lips

Two-Year-Old: I don’t want to sit on my lips!

R.I.P. Robert Culp

Me: Looks like we’re going to watch I Spytonight.
Six-Year-Old: What’s that about?
Me: It’s about people who spy for a living.
Six-Year-Old: Sany-a’ wanted me to spy on her uncle for her.
Me: Why?
Six-Year-Old: I don’t know.

Herding

Me: That’s what we need: a dog-herding sheep.

Monkey

Wife [to Six-Year-Old]: Don’t eat like a chipmunk or a squirrel. It gets crumbs everywhere.
Me: Yeah, you’re a monkey. So eat like a monkey.

Hurt

Wife: Are you sure you want to go through with this? Changing everything about you that needs to be changed?
Me: Yes.
Wife: It’s going to hurt a lot.
Six-Year-Old: Like putting earrings in there?