Correction

Wife: You look like you need the color correction on your face fixed.

Bubble Bath

Me [as a monster from Final Fantasy XIII]: “I’m carmelized!”
Six-Year-Old: You sound like you have bubble bath inside you.
Me: What?!
Six-Year-Old: I was talking to the flan.

Pareidolia

Me: That’s my pareidolia.
“That spot looks like the Crab Nebula.”
“Sure it’s not Jesus?”
“No, it’s the Crab Nebula.”
Wife: “Not what the icon painter was going for, but whatever.”

Territory

Me: This is veering dangerously close to shuggoth territory.

Song Cycle

Me: “A twenty-two track song cycle about Imelda Marcos“? What the hell kind of ad is that?

Wagon

Six-Year-Old: That’s a wagon. What’s it doing up there?
Wife: That’s a mailbox.

Lizard

Wife: Are you a scary ghost?
Six-Year-Old: No, I’m a wizard!
Two-Year-Old: I’m a lizard!

Looting

Wife: Now that’s sensible looting.
Me: Sensible looting?
Wife: It’s flooded. I need a boat.

Hair

Me: You know, just because you’ve seen something doesn’t mean you have to say it has hair on it.

Firebombs

Wife: Asshole—confederate flag.
Me: At the Barnwell County Museum?
Wife: No, just some house across the street.
Me: We could firebomb it.
Wife: We don’t have any firebombs.
Me: We just filled up the car with gas. It would be easy to get some of it back out.
Wife: We need to get back home. How would you like it if we needed to get home, and we’d used all the has for firebombs.