Queen B: … And put that thing next to the other thing. No, not that thing, THAT thing. Yes, that thing. By the other thing.
Me: [ puts the thing by the other thing ]
QB: Thank you. Sorry if I was being obtuse.
Me: I’m married. I’ve learned you’re always right.
QB: Ha. Ha. Math puns.
Me: No, you were supposed to say ‘Ha, ha, that was acute.’
QB: [ rolls eyes and leaves]
Butterfly: MOOOOOMMMM! Where does your iPad go?
Me: Between the hPad and the jPad.
Butterfly: [ rolls eyes and leaves ]
I’m at the gas station to fuel the car. Across from me is a long line of leather-vested, bandana-wearing, tattoo-sporting, scowling bikers (presumably headed to the Sturgis Rally) fueling their bikes. One by one, they mount their bikes, and fire them up. One by one, the bikes explode to life, growling and rumbling and sputtering…
Except for the last bike, which (owing to its rider forgetting to turn down the radio) instead exploded into “SEE THAT GIRL! WATCH THAT SCENE! DIGGIN’ THE DANCING QUEEN!!”
Me: [ rolls eyes and leaves ]