Must Be On His Mother’s Side

Me: “Oh my word! How big of a bite did you take? You can’t even close your mouth.”

Danger Monkey, age 10: (incomprehensible noises)

Wonderful Wife: “That’s unacceptable.”

DM: (spits out much food)

Me: “Dude, that’s way too much. That’s like four bites.”

WW: “That’s eight bites. I think I’m going to be sick.”

Me: “Dude. Gross.”

DM: “What can I say? I have chipmunk ancestry.”

Me: …

Me: “I’m not a genealogist, but as your parents, you’d think we would have already known that.”


From the Back Stall, Men’s Room, Newark Int’l Airport, Monday 7:47 PM.

Little Kid: “Ewww. Water’s everywhere.”

Tired Dad: “Ignore it. Remember, don’t touch anything. Nothing.”

LK: “What’s this?”

TD: “WHAT? I JUST SAID… I just said don’t touch anything!”

LK: “It’s wet.”

TD: “NO! I… uh… just stand still. We’ll wash your hands as soon as we get out.”

(long pause)

TD: “WAIT! NO! DON’T… aww, man… don’t touch your face. Please don’t touch your face. Oh God, your mom’s gonna kill me. I’m dead. I’m dead. Wait. No. It’s OK, we’ll just… YOU MUST STOP TOUCHING YOUR FACE.”

(long pause)

LK: “My nose itches.”

TD: (loud sigh)

TD: “You’re getting booster shots tomorrow.”

Tastes Like Chicken Water

Me: “Look, kids. The hotel lobby has ice water with cucumber in it. See the little green slices.”

Danger Monkey, age 9: “No thanks. I hate cucumbers.”

Me: “Well, I’m only assuming it’s cucumber. It could be slices of dead snakes.”

DM: “That’s completely disgusting.”


DM: “I wanna try it.”

DM: (long drink)

DM: “Disgusting.”

DM: “Can I have some more?”