March 7, 2017

Wife: That wasn’t very polite.
Nine-Year-Old: Dad was being an idiot.
Wife: He was telling a joke. Would you like it if you were telling a joke, and somebody heard what you said and called you an idiot?
Nine-Year-Old: Should I have called him “stupid” instead?


February 25, 2017

Wife [to Nine-Year-Old]: Go get a hairbrush out of my bathroom, so we can fix your hair. It looks like a cat slept in it.
Me: A cat did sleep in my hair.
Wife: That doesn’t explain your face.


February 23, 2017

Wife: I wouldn’t be surprised if you get fired as her dad.
Me: Can she do that?
Twelve-Year-Old: We can just hire Hobo Dad again for a while, until we find a permanent replacement.
Wife: Are you kidding? Do you know how annoying Hobo Dad was to deal with? He’s like this guy, but with scabies.
Me: That’s right. I do not have scabies… at the present.
Wife: Yes, no scabies at the present.

Son Of

February 13, 2017

Wife: The son of the fuck is this?


February 5, 2017

Me: So I will pick up all the children, and you will pick up all the vegetables.


January 30, 2017

Wife: You’re justifying this on the basis of an Updike novel?
Please don’t drown my baby.


January 17, 2017

Me: Can you get some clothes on?
Five-Year-Old: Yes. Also, [Nine-Year-Old] sprayed my pajamas with water.

Happy Birthday, Five-Year-Old!


December 19, 2016

Nine-Year-Old: Okay, [Twelve-Year-Old] gets the chocolate deluxe. Dad gets the chicken corn eggs.


December 16, 2016

Me: I thought you were going to eat me.
Wife: What?
Me: I want you practice endocannibalism, like the Fore.
Wife: What the heck?
Me: Not if I die of CJD.

No, not really.


December 15, 2016

Me: Can we send my mother a card that says, “You’re vulgar, rancid, and putrid”?