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.”


Having 2 ten year old girls in the car gives me the opportunity to overhear some very interesting conversations.

Girl1: “OK, you have 10 seconds to answer… If I died right now, what would you do?”

Girl2: “Of what?”

Girl1: “Huh?”

Girl2: “What did you die of?”

Girl1: “Nothing. I just fell over dead.”

Girl2: “I’d call 911 and then kick your dead body off of my foot.”

Girl1: “What? You hate me?”

Girl2: “No, but I don’t want a corpse on my foot. If you died right now, the way you’re sitting there, you’d totally slump over onto my foot.”

Girl1: “Oh. So, it’s not personal?”

Girl2: “Of course not! You’re my BFF!”

Girl1 & 2: SQUEEEEE

Girl1: “Epic.”

Girl2: “So Epic.”