Overheard at my house:
I don’t know. It’s this stabby pain in my ovary. It’s relentless.
~Oh, I hate it when that happens.
You hate it when your ovaries hurt? You have those now?
~I have sympathetic ovaries. . . I grew a pair.
He thinks he’s so funny. Of course, me falling down in the kitchen laughing only encourages him.
Boy Wonder: “Mom! You should be on Project Runway. You probably wouldn’t make it very far, but I’d be rooting for you all the way!”
**–**–**
Boy Wonder: “Mom! You should be a model on Project Runway. You’d score lots of cool clothes that way!”
**–**–**
I suspect my child is the embodiment of blind faith. Or Yogi Berra.
Boy Wonder: “So with my computer locking up it was like déjà vu from that episode of Andromeda. . .”
Me: “Wait, wait, wait. You can’t have déjà vu from a television show. Even if it is Science Fiction.”
Boy Wonder (turning back to his father): “Like I was saying. . .”
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I’m seriously outnumbered here.Â
Overheard at my house. . .Â
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Boy Wonder: “Mom, could you get Picasso ice cream?”
Me: “Picasso ice cream?”
Boy Wonder: “Yeah, you know, it has chocolate and cherries. . . ”
Me: “The one with pistachios?  I’m thinking you mean Spumoni.”
Boy Wonder: “Oh, right. Spumoni. That’s what I meant.”
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In Step
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Me: “You know, I don’t think our bedroom is all that girly.”
IZ: “Uh huh. . .”
Me: “In fact, I’d say it’s the most masculine it’s ever been.”
IZ: “Could be.”
Me: “You really are the King of Noncommittal language!”
IZ: “Perhaps.”
Me: “You think?”
IZ: . . .Â
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Seriously, folks, his spidey-sense is telling him this conversation is a trap. Â
IZ: You know this colon cleansing stuff is for the birds. Oh, I know what all those woo-woo health people say, but seriously? They  can keep their clean colons. I’ll take mine dirty any day! I’m proud to say that the very first thing I polluted my colon with was McDonald’s!
Me: Is that so?
IZ: Yes! (pumping fist in the air)Â I’m striking a blow for dirty colons everywhere!
