Series

Me: Sorry about the delay. I encountered a series of unfortunate events. And while they probably didn’t rise to Handlerian levels, it did culminate with me chasing after a driver on foot, trying to warn her that her car was on fire.

Proven

Fourteen-Year-Old: It’s proven that kids sleep better with the smell of their parents.
Wife: Can’t I just fart in your bed?

Color on Color

Fourteen-Year-Old: Get out! And don’t wear color on color. You look like a hobo. And leave!

Engineer

Ten-Year-Old: This is impossible!
Six-Year-Old: Just keep trying, and trying, and trying, like an engineer, [Ten-Year-Old].

Turn

Fourteen-Year-Old: It’s my turn to buy all the drinks.

Starling

Me: I just saw a starling beat up a squirrel.

Bandana

Wife: Why are you wearing your bra like a bandana?
Fourteen-Year-Old: Because I didn’t want to wear it like a bra.

Filling

Me: There’s something unsettling about seeing a nine-months-pregnant woman filling her shopping cart with wine.

Under-Ripe

Me:  I had fruit salad at lunch, which was mostly slightly under-ripe pineapple, and now my mouth feels funny.

Fingers

Fourteen-Year-Old: Did I tell you about how I woke up the other morning with my fingers way up my nose?