Still Living in Mom's Basement

We're sitting in a strip mall parking lot discussing the gaming store we're facing.

Hubs: Yeah, that's definitely a Dungeons and Dragons kind of place.
Me: I bet they have a back room where people get together and play role playing games for three days straight. One of them runs next door to Little Caesar's when they get hungry.
Hubs: "You! Your energy is down to fifty percent! You go get the pizzas!"
Me: Yeah. . . I'm actually cool, so I didn't understand that reference.
Hubs: Want me to explain?
Me: I don’t think it matters.

Missed Calling

We're eating Korean food and Hubs's meal has come with a side dish of gigantic bean sprouts. I pick one up with my chopsticks.

Me: Want a sperm?
Hubs: Just one?  That's what you're getting later. One sperm.
Me: I didn't know you had that kind of control.
Hubs: If I did, I'd have a very different profession.

Spoiler Alert

We have a friend whose birthday is coming up and his wife is planning a surprise party. The day of, we learn that it's no longer a surprise.

Hubs: I wonder how he found out. She must have done something suspicious. I mean, like, if it were my birthday and the house was suddenly clean, I would know that something was up.

Unsaved Data May Be Naked

I'm trying to put the baby to bed when I hear our toddler in the bathroom and can tell she's unsupervised.  Hubs was supposed to be with her.  I go to check out the situation and find the toddler alone in the bathroom, naked from the waist down, standing on a step stool, and singing to herself in the mirror.

Hubs catches up with us in the toddler's bedroom and is complaining about her sitting on things while pantsless (which, obviously, is totally his fault).

Me: Okay, so, for future reference. . . You know how you won't stop playing your games until you reach a save point?  Well, this was not a save point.

Batting a Thousand

Following up on the last post about Hubs checking the garage for intruders. . .

Me:  Thanks for going out there with your Louisville Slugger. . . and your baseball bat.

They're Heeeere

Our toddler has gone all Carol Ann and told me there's someone coming, they're in the garage, and I have to "open the doooor and see who it iiiiiissss."  I'm creeped out and insist that Hubs go check the garage for intruders.  He arrives downstairs with a souvenir-sized Louisville Slugger in hand.

Hubs:  I'm not sure what this is going to do against a demon.  But it's all I have.

Ask a Stupid Question. . .

Hubs: Why are you always hitting me?
Me: Why are you always making me hit you?