Junior: "Mommy, I didn't get any sleep last night."
Chuck: "I knew this would happen if he spent the night at your mother's. He was probably overtired. She probably put him to bed at 11."
Me: "If he hadn't spent the night, we wouldn't have been able to sleep in this morning when kid two took his morning nap..."
Chuck: "What happened, pal? Why couldn't you sleep?"
Junior: "There were so many owls! They kept me up all night. Stupid owls!"
Chuck: "We don't say stupid, remember?"
Me: "Owls? Owls, honey? Are you sure?"
Chuck: "Yah, owls?"
Junior: "They kept going 'Ooooooh. Oooooooh. Oooooooh.' All night, Mommy!"
Chuck: "Hold on. Was it a 'Whoooooo' or an 'Ooooooooooh'?"
Junior: "Like this: 'Ooooooooooooh. Oooooooooooh'. All night. It kept me up!"
Me: "Oh, God. If he's talking about what I think he's talking about I'm going to puke."
Chuck: "Are you sure they went 'Oooooooooooooh'?"
Me: "But they're in their seventies! Can you even...?"
Chuck: "Thank you Viagra."
Me: "I'm going to throw up now."
Chuck: "Me too. How stupid can you—"
Junior: "Don't say stupid, Daddy!"
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.