Mom: Is it true your sister smokes weed? Me: Yeah. Duh. Mom: What problems could a fifteen-year-old possibly have that they would need weed for?! I NEED WEED TO PUT UP WITH RAISING THAT CHILD!

(Looking outside at lotus-type tree.) Me: Hey mom, what's the name of that tree in our front yard? Mom: I dunno, George? Me: No, no, I mean the name of the type of tree. Mom: You can name it whatever you want honey.