This is SO Going in My Blog!

"Jason, can you help me find my sunglasses? I'm going crazy looking everywhere. I mean, like, everywhere, except the compost pile."

Creak. Plod plod plod. Hmm. Dig dig.

"Found 'em."

Right there, in the pile. I'm a hero. True story.

Indubitably

"But Daddy, some foods don't make poop."
"No. If it goes in, it has to go out."
"Indeed."
"In...deed?"

In My Mind

Target is morphing into Hazzard County so slowly that we aren't meant to notice. Have you listened to their walkie conversations lately?

"Available cashiers to the front, please."
"Operator, come back."
"Cooter, have you got your ears on?"
"Bo Peep, this is Lost Sheep. That dipstick Cletus is hot on our tail. We'll lose him at the Boar's Nest, there's an overturned hay cart we can jump. Yeee-haw."

*Halfway through this post, I thought maybe I should present my alternative 'CHiPs' theory. "7-Mary-4, do you copy?"

Girl-Inept, but The Wife Still Likes Me for Some Reason

The scene: A female, I don't know why, is chatting me up.
"So, did you do anything exciting this weekend?"
"Uh, no. Just read."
"Ooo, anything good?"

Option 1: The truth! But Polgara the Sorcereress is a sure-fire girl-conversation killer. Go for something else. She looks like a smart, philosophical type. Think!

"The Fountainhead."
"Oh. Isn't that, like, set in the future or something?" Pleasant conversation ends here.

Insert Pac-Man death sound effects.

At Least I've Still Got You

I was listening to the baby screech because, well, that's what was on. An intense, anguished squeal it was.

Me: "You know what it sounds like? You know when the Nazgul are decending on Minas Tirith and--"
Her: "No, I don't." Exit, kitchen right.

Well, anyway, it sounded like that.

Wrong!

When did we buy this lunch meat? Was it before vacation, or after we got back? Surely after.

Observing Jason

Her: "You're prettier in color."

Travel

Me, thinking ahead: "Should we pack some condoms?"
Her: "I packed four."

That's an awfully precise number. Not some. Not a few. Not five-ish. Not a handful. Like jellybeans, some things are just awkward when counted individually.