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”?


December 9, 2016

Wife: I planted a GPS tracking chip in your nose.
Me: That’s an unconventional place for it.
Nine-Year-Old: It’d sneeze it out.
Wife: That’s why most people don’t put it there.
Me: Butt.


December 8, 2016

Wife: You could be more sensitive, instead of saying, “I shave my face every day, bitches! What’s up?”


December 7, 2016

Wife: I’ve shaved so many parts of your body over the years, I don’t even want to think about it.