"Mom! This dinner smells like dead tarantulas!"
"Mom! When I get big can I wear an eyebrow like you?" says she while holding up a bra.
"Son, you seem to have a problem with farting today," says I after hearing what seemed to be the 548th toot of the afternoon.
"Mom said fart!!! Mom said fart!!!" replies the exuberant boy.
"Do we get to ride in the trunk??!" says my daughter with great joy. Er, that's the Sportage. . .we haven't resorted to putting children in the trunk - yet.
"I know what I'm gonna give up for Lent! Yellow!!" says the boy sincerely.
And one more zinger that is escaping me . . .I think I have about 17 brain cells left today.
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