July 11, 2017

Me: [Five-Year-Old]!
Five-Year-Old: I can’t! I’m pooping!
Me: No, that’s perfect.


July 10, 2017

Five-Year-Old: How do you say, “bonus room,” in English?


July 9, 2017

Me: Some of those people don’t look like they belong in a caveman restaurant.
Wife: I don’t know what kind of discrimination that is, but it’s stupid.


July 8, 2017

Me: Don’t poke that guy. He might poke you back, and you don’t want to be poked by Vlad the Impaler.
Thirteen-Year-Old: It’s okay. He’s dead.
Me: Again, with this guy, being dead—that may not stop him from coming after you.


July 7, 2017

Teacher: It’s a great day to be a green cricket!
Me: Isn’t a green cricket just a grasshopper?


July 6, 2017

Thirteen-Year-Old: You can’t go up against God, because that’s just….


July 5, 2017

Wife: I never thought I would have to say that at a bat mitzvah party: “Stay out of the coffin!”


July 4, 2017

Wife: You are partially to blame for him snorting garlic salt.


July 3, 2017

Friend: You can drop acid with me and Brett.
Wife: Wow, that’s a party.


July 2, 2017

Thirteen-Year-Old: I sound like Smeagol going through puberty.