Don’t Have The Stomach For Sarcasm

(We have a kitten who likes to sleep on our chests. Tonight she’s on mine, stretched out with her head under my chin. My brother and father are up. My brother is autistic, but even then he tends to do, say, and ask things that just make you think, “What the hell, man?”)

Me: “Ah, jeez. Look at this kitten.”

Dad: *laughs*

Brother: “What, on your stomach?”

Me: “That ain’t my stomach, bud.”

Brother: “Do women even have stomachs?”

(I stare at him before realizing that he’s completely serious.)

Me: “No, we have plastic bags in there that we pull out of our a**es.”

Father: “Yeah, they have to clean them out every day.”

Me: “Why do you think we’re in the bathroom for so long?”

Brother: “You could have said, ‘yes.’”

Me: “To be honest, you left that opportunity open to me.”