Dylan: Do you ever plot out or plan what you’d do if you were a criminal?
Dylan: Oh. Okay. Me either, then.
Blake: Are you guys making fun of me? You’re my parents. You’re supposed to be representing me.
Chris: Don’t you mean resenting you?
Me: I am seriously going to pop a vein soon if you boys don’t get this living room picked up.
Dylan: Can people really pop veins? I bet that hurts.
Chris: (super serious) Yeah, it happened to a friend of mine. He got sent to the nurse.
Dylan: (trying not to laugh) Really? It happened to a friend of yours? Wouldn’t he be a little young for that?
Chris: No; he was in fourth grade.
Chris: How do grandmas learn to cook so well?
Me: Don’t you mean ‘how do moms learn to cook so well?’
Chris: I already know how moms cook so well - that’s why I asked about grandmas.
Blake: Backpedal, backpedal, backpedal
Rolling hills that had been vibrant green just weeks ago were now muted in tone, as if they were taking a deep breath before bursting into the song of fall.