September 18, 2017

Wife: Trader Joe’s Dijon mustard is made according to ancient torture methods.



September 16, 2017

Me: That mustard was so strong, it made the back of my head hurt.

Five-Year-Old: Stop taking it away when I call it “beer,” or you’re going to get a heart attack!


September 3, 2017

Ten-Year-Old: I have a big eye.
Wife: It looks like you’re crying lemonade.


August 30, 2017

Five-Year-Old: Do you want some space cake?
Me: No thanks. I’m trying to lose space weight.


August 21, 2017

Five-Year-Old: Let’s do an adventure. You start in a village.
Ten-Year-Old: What do I have?
Five-Year-Old: You have some bread, beer, some juice, and those guys that are with you. Your weapons are a bazooka, a ginormous knife, and, uh, and a big gun, and a freeze gun. It can freeze people to ice.


August 20, 2017

Five-Year-Old: That burns my nuts out!


July 20, 2017

Me: Will you stop talking about that?
Thirteen-Year-Old: You brought it up.
Me: No, I didn’t!
Thirteen-Year-Old: Yes, you did.
Me: I asked you what you wanted for dinner. That’s not bringing up dissecting animals.


July 18, 2017

Wife: I suppose you actually put chocolate on that broccoli?
Me: It was surprisingly not bad.


July 17, 2017

Me: Hey, look at those geese. Do they feed them?
Thirteen-Year-Old: No.
Me: Then what do you think they’re eating?
Thirteen-Year-Old: I don’t know. Their own poop, probably.
Me: You can’t subsist on your own poop. That violates the Second Law of Thermodynamics.
Thirteen-Year-Old: They’re geese. They do whatever they want… mystical creatures.