February 14, 2017
Twelve-Year-Old [after taking a drink]: Extremely lacking.
Me: Are you reviewing the water, or what?
February 12, 2017
Four-Year-Old: How did the chicken get across the bridge?
Me: I don’t know. How did the chicken get across the bridge?
Four-Year-Old: He poured out some chocolate milk and slided across the bridge.
On the chocolate milk.
February 11, 2017
Wife: There’s something on your face.
Oh, it’s just water.
It looked like weird cheese.
February 8, 2017
Me: Oh, we’re out of taco spice.
And, uh, we have a lot of taco-flavored rice.
February 5, 2017
Me: So I will pick up all the children, and you will pick up all the vegetables.
January 21, 2017
Twelve-Year-Old: The shepherd’s pie will sustain me.
January 14, 2017
Me: This time, we can add even more chili oil.
Me: [Friend] can handle it.
So long as he doesn’t handle his junk afterward.
January 6, 2017
Wife: Ah, there… it’s kicking in.
Me: Oh, good.
Wife: No, there’s a middle ground between competent and drunk—“competrunk.”
Wife: I think I’m on the wrong side of competrunk.