Wait for it . . . there it is.

C {reading a book of lawyer jokes}: Dad, what does it mean to play piano in a warehouse? It's spelled with an 'H' and an {pause} OOOOOOOHHHHH, never mind, I get it.

Wow, it really IS addictive.

A: "I want to keep this Chap-Stick until I die, and when I die I will have this Chap-Stick in my hand."

And the cycle of generations continues.

C {looking at his brother's report card}: What's a “P”?

P: “Pass.” A+, basically.

{Earns twin merit badges for Salesmanship and Passive Aggression}

P: I think I may be interested in joining the Boy Scouts.

C: That's the first sensible thing I've ever heard you say.

Done aaaand done.

“To say ‘I'm sorry.’ To say ‘I forgive you.’ To ask for fruit. To ask if you could read a book.”
— A's exceptions to her proposed rule that we preserve family harmony by not speaking to each other until next October

Solid deductive reasoning.

P: I wonder who decided to call a dice game "craps"?

C: Probably someone with terrible hygiene.

Because we know best what we love best. Duh.

E: "Dad, why is it you know the names of all the doughnuts?"

Only one part of that is right.

E {singing}: ♪♪ Happy birthday to me.

♪ I'm a hundred and three. ♪♪

♪♪ I don't think it's my birthday.

♪ Happy birthday to me. ♪♪ {repeat}

I see what you did there.

D: P, can you be an acolyte today? All we have down on the rota is "TBD".

P {smiling}: Yeah, that guy NEVER shows up.

Totally different thing.

Dad: Are you about to collapse with hunger?

E: No, but I am about to collapse with THIRST-er.

Yeah, that explains it.

P {discussing a particularly badly-behaved day months ago}: You know, I think the problem was that I was over-emotional that day.

Dad {impressed}: Buddy, that's a very mature and astute observation.

P: Well, I'm quoting Mom here.

Proof that adolescence is an infectious disease.

P {describing his favorite camp counselor}: He's so awesome. He's just so … blasé.

I advise taking the Fifth.

C: Mom, how many years of happiness did you have before P was born?

♪ I-R-O-N-Y ♪

E {singing}:  ♪♪ I like to spelllll. ♪ S-T-E-L-L. ♪♪ {repeat}

Well played.

Me {to E}: Well, if you don't like it when a parent yells at you, the best way to make them stop is to CHANGE YOUR BEHAVIOR.

C: Or you can bring them a margarita.

Me: . . .

Me: {nods slowly}

Some of us can.

C: {criticizing A for a day-long tantrum}

Me: Yeah, but it helps to remember that YOU may have had some similar behavior at that age.

C {nodding}: And now we can all laugh about it.

Yeah, but you’ve pulled it together since then, right?

E: {pointing at her mom’s tummy} When I came out of there, I didn’t know WHAT I was thinking.

I’m pleased to report he makes this an everyday reality.

P: My new motto is ‘Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass; it’s about learning to dance in the rain.’

C: Mine is . . . {thinking} . . . ‘Let the others do the dirty work.’

Well, certainly don't take MY word for it.

E: It was the French that killed the girl [Joan of Arc], right, Daddy?

Me: Uh, I'm pretty sure it was the English.

E {definitively now}: It was the French.

I wasn't talking to you.

Me {to V}: The congressman who beat up the abolitionist on the floor of the Senate — wasn't he from South Carolina?

C: You mean Preston Brooks? He was.

It's as good a theory as any.

P: "I've never been especially attracted to redheads. I think it might be because I have a brother who's a redhead."

Fair point.

C {caught red-handed wrestling with P}: Why is P not in juvie? I thought you said fighting is a crime when it's not in self-defense.