Cole: I don't quite know what to think of all of this.
Emma: Ugh, I know. Our parents are the worst. Just ignore them, and maybe they'll go away.
Colin: Seriously, can't happen soon enough. I was trying to watch the Gopher game, but these chuckleheads won't sit down.
John: Man, am I comfortable. Cole, have I ever told you that your thighs are like pillows? I swear you have goose down in there. Ridiculous. Wait, what's going on?
Cole: We're talking about our parents, John. They're all kind of jumping around like lunatics, taking pictures and making silly faces. Color me dubious.
Emma: What did I say? Just ignore them, boys. Don't look, don't look, don't look.
Colin: I mean, really, people. I'm a baby. I'm not tall. Down in front!
John: This is just the price we pay, guys.
Emma: And gal!
John: Right, and gal. Anyway, this is just the price we pay. They feed us, clothe us, shelter us, and tend to us when we're crying.
Cole: I suppose, but if they were better at all of that, maybe we wouldn't be crying in the first place, right?
Colin: And if they were better at not blocking the television, maybe I could catch the rest of this game.
Emma: Colin, it's the Gophers. They're terrible. Who cares?
John: True that.
Cole: Turrible, even.
Colin: Well, it's either watch the game or look at them!
Emma: Hmmm....
John: The man brings up a good point. Hey Cole, can you scratch my head for me?
Cole: Sure, buddy. Here?
John: Uh, a little bit more toward Colin....
Cole: Here?
John: Perfect. Oooh. Thanks, dude. Way better.
Cole: No worries, John. No worries.
9/10/2011.
