driving

(My mom and my grandma talking during dinner.) Grandma: (talking about our dog) When I went for a drive with Jake in the back seat he just laid on the floor and cried. Mom: Really? Grandma: Yeah, he just laid down and started crying. Mom: That's what I do every time I'm in a car with you driving.

(Dad hits rumble strips while driving.) Me: What are those for? dad: That's how blind people drive. It's called braille driving.

Me: Dad, your car is falling apart, you should really look at getting it fixed. Dad: It's not falling apart, it has CHARACTER. (*Dad goes to open car door, it falls off*) Dad: (*Guilty look over shoulder*) Character?