Dad: Our entire family seems to have prostate problems. I have it, your grandpa has it, his father also has it... There's a good chance that you might have it too. ME: Why is that? DAD: I dunno, but we make up for it in sexual prowess.

(In the living room about 15 minutes before Thanksgiving Dinner with 20 family members and Grandma.) Gram: I think somebody farted. Younger Brother: You know what they say Gram, they who smelled it, dealt it. Gram: (laughs) That's true. (*Pause*) Gram; No, I was wrong, somebody's crapped themselves.

Me: I'm going to discipline my kids better when I have them. I'm going to lock them in a closet. Mom: Oh... That's what I did with you...

Mom: Hey, aren't you going to play "Leon"? Me: you mean "Resident Evil 4"? Mom: Sure, yeah Me: Mom, I have homework. Mom: That's too bad! Here! (Hands me controller) I wanna see what happens Me: But mom I - Mom: NOW!

(When I was younger, walking down the street and we passed a group of guys when one spits on the floor) Grandmother: You gonna pick that up punk? Guy: WHAT? Grandmother: Yeah, I'm gonna stay here untill you clean it up! Guy: How do you want me to do that? Grandmother: LICK IT UP OR SOMETHING! (Grandma keeps staring at him until the guy cleans it off of the street.)

(My dad, the night before I'm set to leave for a week-long field trip with my school): When you're gone, I'm going to dance with the cat. And we're going to dance to Lady Gaga, because I was born this way.