“Oh…
…I love cheetahs!”
— Éa, in an arrestingly genuine response to the animal-print pajamas Sullivan gave her for Christmas; she had left us because she paused about five seconds between the first and second parts, and her reply wasn’t accompanied by a smile
I do not use trash cans as places to store stuff any more.
— Scott, defending himself when challenged to report why the children’s not-yet-empty toothpaste was sitting in the garbage
Carla: Oh my God, living with you is like living in a legal document!
Scott: Oh my god, living with you is like living in oatmeal!
Scott: Éa, would you mind if I put on some tunes?
Éa: Yeah.
Scott [to clarify]: Should I put on some tunes?
Éa: Yeah.
Scott: Any objections anyone?
Éa: Tunes! But don’t put on any objections!
I want one of those ballet shirts with a butt and a labia.
— Éa, in reference to buying a leotard
Scott: Sullivan, I’ve been meaning to talk with you about your reading habits.
Sullivan: You’ll never stop me.
Éa: [making small talk] What’s your Stilson?
Lindsay: Pelz. [the correct answer]
Carla: [playfully flicks dishwater at Scott]
Scott: What did I do to deserve that?
Carla: You married me.
Hey, it was definitely hard, but I really enjoyed spending time with you this evening.
— Scott, to Carla
Carla: It’s 7:57.
Scott: What!? Already?
Carla: I know. Like, what the fUuuuuuUuuck? [moment of silence] Sometimes I say that just to assert my adulthood.
Daddy, no you don’t go to work! Éa and I go to work! [pause] Oh. Well, I guess if Éa and I were the one who went to work, we’d be poor.
— Sullivan, in a gradually self-aware attempt to keep Scott from going to work that day
The front cover of a birthday card Sullivan drew for Cassie’s birthday. Featuring a black-capped chickadee drawn from a photo.
Yeah, but I got two in a row.
— Sullivan, after losing at tic-tac-toe to Grandpa
Carla: Wow, it looks like it was cold last night.
Sullivan: Well, I was as warm as a bear slumbering in the basement.
If I were married to myself, I’d be divorced.
— Carla
Carla: I’ve gotta get in shape for the wedding.
Scott: Whoa. Weird. Normal woman-talk just came out of my wife’s mouth.
Once it got to more abstract levels, I got interested.
— Scott, causing laughter in Carla for reasons that shall remain unmentioned
Éa: Daddy, Daddy, I forgot something.
Scott: Oh, what?
Éa: I forget.
My daughter was over the other day when Scott pulled into your driveway with the kids. As Sullivan was getting out, she said, “Ma! That boy has no coat on!” I said, “You’re lucky he has shoes on.” Then Éa came out of the car…
— Neighbor Janet
Don’t forget to felt your scroll saw.
— Carla, pretending to be Scott prompting her to keep up with making a Christmas present
I tried Foursquare again last week. I’ve got to stop. I’m like a dog returning to its vomit.
— Scott
“I need a carrot.”
— Sullivan, reaching into the fridge to grab the bag of baby carrots after eating a sour gumball for the first time
While reading the Cheerios box, Sullivan stops and says, “Mom, what’s cancer?” Carla replies that it’s a sickness that kills a lot of people and that Cheerios is trying to raise money to help fund research to find a cure. In turn, Sullivan says, “Yeah, because pink doesn’t really work, right?” Confused, Carla asks, “What?” Sullivan replies slyly as if telling her something that only a few select people know, “Liiiike, people wear those pink shoes and gloves…but it doesn’t really cure their cancer.”
Carla [from the other room]: OK, it’s decided.
Scott: What’s that?
Carla: I don’t know.
“When you come back to life after death, it’s sort of like God pushed you out of His tummy.”
— Sullivan, unprompted