Opposites Attract.

Erin: You need to relax. Stop being so Baptist.
Richard: I can't. I can't do it.
E: Think how much easier your life would be if you just let your inner David Lee Roth out.
R: I can't do it.
E: Come on. Just give me a little scream.
R: I can't do it.
E: Just one little scream. HEEEEEY YEAH!
R: I can't do it.
E: So I guess if you were in a band, you'd be the kind of guy who'd be the drummer--not really a "front man" kind of guy?
R: Um...maybe.
E: The bass player?
R: No. Too animated.
E: Backup guitar?
R: Yeah, maybe. I'm not sure, though.
E: Who, then?
R: The bus driver.
E: We are SO different.
R: Uh, YEAH.

I guess I should have seen that coming.

Note to self: HIDE THE MARKER!

MNF

Erin: There's football tonight? I thought Monday Night Football started later in the season.
Richard: Yeah. It starts a day later.

Oopsies.

Richard [proudly surveying his newly cleaned-out refrigerator]: It's nice to know exactly what we have in the fridge.
Erin: I know exactly what we have in the fridge. If you did the grocery shopping, you would, too.
Richard: Oh, yeah? Then no more shredded cheese.

Are you ready for some...

Apparently something exciting happened in football last week.
It has been FOOTBALL 24/7 in our house for the last two weeks.
Madden 2012 comes out on August 30th, but the demo comes out on August 9th.
A bunch of old guys have a lot of redundant things to say about football on the NFL network and ESPN. And ESPN2. And ESPNespanol.
Football officially begins the same weekend as the marriage retreat (just like it does every year. Just like it causes a paralyzing panic in my husband EVERY YEAR).
All this begs the question:
Isn't it still baseball season?

New Computer

Richard: You should take the plastic off the cover.
Erin: No!
R: Are you gonna take the stickers off?
E: No!
R: Can I open the battery?
E: No!
R: Why?
E: Then it's not new anymore!
R: You're crazy.
E: Why don't you just sneeze on it and break it in.

I'm a heavy.

Sometimes when one of us has a headache, it feels really good to have the other lift straight up on our heads to relieve some of the strain in the neck. I'm sure we are a chiropractic nightmare, but, hey. It helps. Last night, I asked Richard to do this for me.
Richard, lifting: Grunt, strain, grunt.
Erin: The human head is heavy, isn't it?
Richard: Well, actually, I think it's all the other stuff attached to the head that makes it heavy.
Erin: Are you calling me fat?
Richard: I, uh...um, wait. Ah. Um. Oh, I uh... What?

Richard's Theory of Relativity

If every light socket in the house has a working lightbulb, (at least) one must burn out immediately.
There shall never be a time when all lightbulbs are completely functional.

And then I broke out in cold sweat.

Shirley: Daddy, I can have more chicken?
Richard: Sure, but this isn't chicken. This is...
Erin: Don't do it.
Rich: ...PIG!
SJ: What?
Erin: Nooooo...not tonight.
SJ: Daddy! This is meat.
Rich: No, it's pig.
Erin: Richard! Stop it! NOT. TONIGHT.
SJ: Daddy, stop. You silly.
Rich: Ok, Shirley, you're right. It's chicken.
SJ: No, Daddy. There's no animals. This is meat!
Erin: Yes! It's meat.
Rich: It's meat.
SJ: Yummmmmy. I can have dip?

The Potatoes have eyes!

Daddy has so defiled Mrs. Potato Head that Shirley will not

*will not*

touch her.

For your reference: "Outside" is now called "Commando."

Erin: Shirley, let's put on your underpants.
Shirley: NO!
Erin: Ok, how about a diaper?
Shirley: NO!
Erin: Well it has to be one or the other.
Shirley: NO!
Richard: Do you want to go commando?
Shirley: YEAH! Let's go commando, Daddy! Take her! Take her commando! Let's go!

It's good to know where you're at.

The other night, Richard and I went to visit some friends who had a baby. We rode separately so he could take the daddy out for wings (a long-standing tradition in our circle).
I texted him while he was out, "That was fun. Let's have another."
He replied, "Beer?"

New Recipe

Erin: I think that was probably the worst dinner I have ever made us.
Richard: No comment.
E: Ha! I know it. [longpause] Wait. Are you saying 'no comment' because you can think of something worse? Or are you saying 'no comment' because you don't want to hurt my feelings my not agreeing with me?
R: No comment.
E: No! You have to tell me. I can't think of anything worse than what we ate tonight, but if I'm wrong, I need to know!
R: [longpause] I just don't ever want to have that again.
E: Ok.

Make a Wish

Yesterday at the football game, Richard said, "If I was dying or got cancer or something, and I got one wish, I would want to run out about ten yards, then cut right, and have Brett Favre throw me the ball as hard as he could, so I could see what it felt like, just one time. I hope he would break all my fingers."

What's mine is mine...and I DON'T share fries!

Erin: Hey, do you want the other half of this waffle?
Richard: Only if you aren't gonna eat it.
E: No. I don't want it.
R: Are you sure?
E: Yes! I wouldn't have offered it otherwise.
R: I'm really fine. If you're still hungry, go ahead.
E: I really don't want it. I don't often offer food off my plate out of the goodness of my heart if I'm still hungry.

Many of you can attest to the probable truth of this conversation based on personal experience.

Hot Dog: An Ethical and Gravitational Crisis

At about 4:00 this morning, I became aware that someone was whining and wimpering. Also, that I had been hearing it for quite a while. Hours, possibly. I listened for a minute to discern which child it was, and determined that it was canine in nature and coming from the dining room.
I shook Richard's shoulder and asked hhim to go check it out.
Pedro was trapped on the dining room table.
When he saw Richard approaching, his fear of punishment outweighed his fear of heights and he launched himself off the table, and bolted under our bed. (Small dog, short legs, tall table. You can imagine how it went...)
How often does Pedro trap himself on the dining room table?
Why did he get stuck last night, and (apparently) never before?
If it has happened before, on average, how long is he trapped? When he hears someone get up in the middle of the night or the garage door opening, does he panic and finally find the "courage" to get down?
Why couldn't he get down the same way he got up?
Seems to me that Pedro was suffering a gravitational crisis, in addition to making some poor moral choices that his walnut-sized brain just couldn't reason out. I am inclined to set up a hidden camera tonight and leave a great, big, steaming bratwurst in the middle of the table. Just to see what happens.

Carcass

My home is the place watermelons come to die.

Well, that's that.

Erin: I don't GET you.
Richard: Yeah? I don't get you either.

Curious

Erin: How does this one end? I've seen the beginning like ten times, but never the end.
Richard: Oh, you know. There's a misunderstanding. George gets in trouble. George saves the day.

The Gormand

Richard: What are you eating?
Erin: Your ice cream.
R: The vanilla?
E: No--the other one.
R: You put chocolate on it?!
E: Yeah...
R: I flavored it so you wouldn't HAVE to put chocolate on it.
E [ignoring]: You know, if you learned how to temper eggs and make a custard, it would really take your ice cream to another level.
R: Oh, don't threaten me.