Last Saturday for dinner we had grilled chicken breasts, corn on the cob, rice, and fresh strawberries. Not the kind of meal I would expect to bring on total mayhem, but alas ...
Me: Megan, no singing at the table.
Megan: Why not? Why can't we sing at the table?
Me: It's just not the place for it. Just like eating with your mouth full.
Henry: Eating with your mouth full?
Me: Talking with your mouth full. You know what I meant.
Amanda: What part of the chicken is this?
Me: The breast.
Amanda giggling: The boob? We're eating chicken boobs?
Megan singing: Chicken boobs. Chicken boobs.
Me: Okay, that's enough.
Amanda holding her corn cob up to her mouth: Dad, I know I'm not eating manly, but am I eating fast? Watch. (She starts motoring through her corn.)
Me: Why do you want to eat manly?
Amanda: Not manly. MANNERLY.
Amanda then breaks wind, which is way more manly than mannerly. Everyone laughs, I'm sorry to say. This causes Amanda to drop food from her mouth and down her shirt.
Henry: Now you've dropped chicken boobs down your shirt.
Megan mistaking the word 'boobs' for 'abuse': What's 'abuse'?
Henry: Eating at this table.