Chips on My Shoulder

My Oldest, age 16: (walks in eating potato chips) “Hey, since when do you hide potato chips from us?”


Me: (whispering) “I don’t hide them. I just… store them… strategically. And please be quiet before the others hear you.”

My Oldest: “This from the guy who tells us to not keep secrets. Nice.”

Me: “Hey, now. I only hide them because you kids snarf them up immediately as soon as you know they’re in the house. It’s one of my only treats, so I like to have some stick around in the house longer than 10 minutes.”

My Oldest: “Whatever. You can hide all the BBQ chips you want, I just want the plain ones.”

Danger Monkey, age 10: (from the other room) “We have BBQ chips! Woo-hoo!”

Me: (glaring)

My Oldest: (batting eye lashes) “Love you, Daddy.” (walks away)


Stinky Uncles

Me: “Let’s try something different tonight.”

My Oldest, age 15: “Nope.”

Me: “Awww, why not? We can’t always go to the same three restaurants.”

Oldest: “Uh. Yes we can.”

Me: “Where’s your spirit of adventure?”

Oldest: “There’s a reason we go to the same three restaurants. They’re good. If you want to try Uncle Stinky’s Barbeque & Foot Spa, do it on your own time.”

Me: …

Me: “That place sounds awesome.”

Oldest: “And… there’s your problem.”