There is No Title That Could Make This More Spectacularly Awesome.

My kids. They left cookies and beer for Santa.

Not the First Time I've Said It, Apparently

Going down to the basement, I find that Connor has, having claimed to have put some pottery pieces into storage properly, actually left them spread across the floor. This causes me to yell up the stairs, "I'm gonna kill your son!"

Ethan, without a second's hesitation responds, "Which one?!"

What do you mean, Jurassic Park isn't appropriate for first graders?

Remember Jurassic Park? Remember the little girl? They're sitting, waiting for the t-rex to emerge, attracted by the bleating of the goat. "What's going to happen to the goat? He's going to eat the goat???" The pansy, jerk lawyer makes a comment about her eating lamb chops. She responds, "I happen to be a vegetarian."

Ethan thinks on this a moment. "Maybe... the t-rex... is a vegetarian."

The Hospital Would Have Been Pleased with a Non-Turkey-Related Injury to Fix

Did you know (and this is going to be a really big revelation here, folks) that if you inflate the tires on a dolly, it actually works better? Sam, father-in-law, and brother-in-law found this out the... easy way? I dunno, what do you call it when someone decides to make his own life easier rather than harder? This, of course, was only after they moved the first 300 pound tree stump up the hill. With flat tires. And swearing. That qualifies as the hard way, I suppose. The easy way almost turned Thanksgiving Day into ER Day when Sam was practically run over when they started up with the second tree stump, envisioning the same resistance.

Also, I helped. You know, in that way you see the wife on the sitcom "helping", making the husband repeatedly move the sofa around the living room in search of the perfect arrangement. Only I did it at the top of my voice from the driveway. Plus sarcasm. And some snark. And maybe the bent over at the waist laughing my ass off didn't help the situation. But, hell, someone has to oversee these operations.

Now the zit is hiding in the folds of her clothing.

Emily had a shiny red rhinestone star stuck to the tip of your nose. "Oh, Emily," I sighed. "You've got a zit on your nose again."

Sam responded in the norm. "We'd better cut it off."

I, in vague response (because I was staring at a daddy blog). "If that happened every time we had a zit on our noses... well, I guess it'd just have been that one time each."

Emily looked back and forth between us, one eyebrow raised. "So... why do you still have noses?"

This type of crap is an everyday occurrence.

Deep growly voice, chanting: Eat a tur-key-LEG! Eat a tur-key-LEG! Eat a tur-key-LEG! Eat a tur-key-LEG!
Connor, stalking after Emily. I don't know why. But it's stuck on repeat in your head now, too. You're welcome.

Doesn't Matter That She Made Up the Name. Get It Right.

Emily and Ethan are playing, Emily holding her stuffed monkey Ookie (oo-key).

Ethan: Hi, Oakie!

Emily: I'm OOOHkie!

Ethan (because that kid's quick on his feet): I'm British!