Me: “Man, I just love old country diners like this. I mean, look at the staff zipping around and sharing tasks. This place runs like a well-oiled machine.”
Wonderful Wife: “Well, there’s definitely enough grease to oil a machine.”
Me: “Man, I just love old country diners like this. I mean, look at the staff zipping around and sharing tasks. This place runs like a well-oiled machine.”
Wonderful Wife: “Well, there’s definitely enough grease to oil a machine.”
Things I Get To Say, School Carnival Edition:
“No, licking off the icing and throwing away the cupcake is not ‘Low Carb’.”
“It’s pronounced BYOOT. There is no such place as BUTT Montana.”
“You can keep the balloons in your shirt, but you must stop yelling, ‘I’VE GOT BOOBS’.”
Me: “OK, kids, we’re trying a new restaurant tonight.”
Little Miss Thing, age 7: “I don’t like it.”
Me: “You don’t even know which restaurant yet.”
LMT: “I already know enough restaurants.”
Me: “Give it a chance. It’s an old school restaurant with solid comfort food. Look, here, we’re pulling up. Isn’t that a cool looking older building?”
Danger Monkey, age 10: “It would look a lot cooler if they had a Medieval Ballista mounted to the roof.”
Me: (long pause)
Me: “I can’t argue with that.”