(My boyfriend tries to compliment me.)

Boyfriend: “You’re not one in a million, you’re one in a billion!” *pauses* “Which means there’s about seven of you!”

(My boyfriend is a peanut butter fanatic.)

Boyfriend: “Wouldn’t it be great if boobs could dispense peanut butter?”

Me: “No, that is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard…”

(A week later…)

Boyfriend: “So, I was thinking about that whole boob thing. I want one boob to dispense peanut butter, and the other boob to dispense chocolate. That would be amazing.”

Me: “What the f***? Why don’t you go eat a Reeses?”

Me: “Come on, honey; you’re old enough to help with chores now. Why don’t you sweep the living room?”

My Six-Year-Old: “But Mommy, you don’t understand! You like doing chores; I don’t!”

(I’m chatting with my friend online, after we have both just finished watching and discussing the new ‘Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D’, when I decide to change the subject.)

Me: “Did I tell you about the super cute guy I met?”

Friend: “No, but I’m sure he’s not Asgardian.”

Me: “I would hope not; I’d much prefer a cyborg. I might try to take him apart though. I think that would probably put a damper in the relationship.”

Friend: “Just maybe.”

Me: “Only if I don’t figure out how to put him back together after.”

Friend: “We’re joking about dissecting a guy you just met, by the way.”

Me: “Not dissecting, disassembling!”

Friend: “Because that’s better?”

Me: “It is! Much less gooey.”

(My two-year-old brother has learned how to ride his bike without training wheels. He is riding around naked and falls, hurting his groin. He runs in the house.)

Brother: “Mommy! Mommy! I hurt my pee-pee! Kiss it, Mommy!”

Mom: “I’m not kissing that, Son.”

(Years later, I now tell this story to all of his girlfriends!)