Deb: “I’m Brad Pitt. I’m really good-looking. I have twenty children from countries whose names I can’t pronounce. Today I am learning how to make meaningful henna tattoos.”

Kevin: “They grow corn, though. There’s a lot of corn.”
Jilli (excited): “Is the corn as high as an elephant’s eye? Does it look like it’s climbing straight up to the sky?”
Kevin: (confused) “No…what are you talking about?”
Deb: “Never mind.”
Kevin: “It’s not that tall. It definitely doesn’t look like it’s up to the sky.”
Jilli: “That’s too bad.”
Kevin: “Corn really doesn’t get to be that tall, you know. Have you ever seen corn?”
Jilli: (annoyed) “Yes.”
Kevin: “Well, I don’t know. You’re from New York City.”
Jilli: “I have seen corn. It was a song.”
Kevin: “About corn?”
Jilli: “No, there’s just corn in it.”
Kevin: (considering) “It’s maybe as high as an alpaca’s eye.”

Deb: “Actually, I’m going to win the most selfless person award. I’ll be receiving my medal next week.”
Jilli: “Hmm. You know, the competition for most selfless person would be interesting, because it would likely be a situation where you could save either yourself or someone else, and you’d have to choose the someone else to be most selfless. But then you’d die.”
Deb: “So then the other person would have to win, by default.”
Jilli: “No, you’d be awarded the medal posthumously.”
Deb: “Ah.”
Jilli: “But then, you’d be thinking that the other person so wanted to win the medal, and you’d want to give it to them, but if you purposely throw it, then the other person dies to save you, and that’s not selfless.”
Dad: “This conversation is officially over.”
(later that day)
Jilli: “Deb, can you help me with this?”
Deb: “No, I’m busy. I’m competing for the selfless awards.”
Jilli: (scoffing) “Enjoy your medal.”
Deb: “I will surely give my medal away to a small, crippled child.”

(Deb is munching on chips)
Jilli: “What kind of chips are those?”
Mom: “Doritos.”
Dad: “No, they’re not. They’re the dorito-ish chips without the flavor. They’re just corn chips. What are they called? it sounds like doritos…”
Deb: “They’re tostitos.”
Jilli: “Oh. Then I’m not interested.”
(Deb keeps munching)
Dad: “Those look like stones.”
Mom: “That’s amazing. There’s psychoanalysis for you. At this point all you have to do is hold up a dorito chip, and dad will see that. You can hold up a dorito chip and people see what’s on their minds.”
Deb: (very annoyed and yelling) “It’s NOT a dorito!” (everyone looks at her) Deb: “Yes, that really bothered me.”

melissa: since when is breast pumping considered “expressing milk”
melissa: excuse me as i vomit, or as i prefer to call it “express my meals”
melissa: on your floor

Jilli: “Hey, you know that song about the blue jeans?”
Deb: “No.”
Jilli: “They play it on the radio all the time.”
Deb: “I don’t listen to the radio. I don’t have a car.”
Jilli: “Huh?”
Deb: “I don’t have a car, so I don’t listen to the radio.”
Jilli: “Just because you don’t have a car–I mean, there are other times you could listen to the radio.”
Deb: “Like when? When I’m walking down the street with my boombox on one shoulder?”

Deb: “Oh, was it on that “Fresh” radio station that only plays songs from, like 2001 but labels them “fresh”?”
Jilli: “Yes. You know how I love that station. I love seeing what they’re going to label as “fresh” next.”
Deb: “Fresh is…Drops of Jupiter by Train!”
Jilli: “They play that song ALL the time. Fresh is…Pat Benatar!”
Deb: “Fresh is…Rico Suave! With his hit, Rico Suave! It goes like this…Rico! Suaaaaaave.”
Dad: “I like that song.”
Deb: “…really?”
Mom: “What are we talking about?”
Deb: “Rico Suave.”
Mom: “What’s that?”
Jilli: “Fresh is…this doowop group! Oh, but they do play “You’re Beautiful” all the time, which is good, because Deb and I like to sing along in our best James Blunt impressions.” (switches to James Blunt voice) “You’re beutifu-hul!”
Deb: (In James Blunt voice) “There must be an a-hangel with a smile on her face…”
(Dad turns the radio on very loudly)
Deb: “I don’t think he likes it.”
Jilli: “That’s because you’re doing an excellent impression.”

Dad: “Oh, it’s that guy Amy has dinner with all the time. Jackson Browne.”
Jilli: “Didn’t he die?”
Mom: “No. Amy has dinner with him all the time.”
Deb: “Perhaps you are thinking of Andrew Jackson.”
(Jilli gives Deb a disgusted look)
Deb: “Just trying to help.”

A quote for Mets fans to appreciate:

It is the bottom of the seventh inning, and Dad and I are leaving the stadium, so we can hear everything going on but see nothing. Carlos Delgado has just been announced.
Crowd: “Ooooh….ahhhhhhhhhh!” (General noises of joy)
Dad: “Hey, I guess he just hit a homerun!” (pauses, thinks) “Or he just threw his bat at Aaron Heilman.”

Debra: “I’m glad I have an ipod now. I still think they’re going to take over the world and destroy us all. But now at least I’ll be at their right hand instead of standing futilely in the way.”

Miss California: “I’m pretty much an open book…”
Melissa: “‘I’m an open book, although I’ve never actually opened a book.’”

Melissa: “Why have they not gotten rid of the swimsuit part yet?”
Steph: “Because it’s about health and fitness.”
Melissa: “Then they should have their blood pressure taken!”

Announcer: “So, after the swimsuit round, we’re now going to trim our semifinalists down…”
Melissa: “Trim the fat. That’s exactly what they’re about to do.”

(Taylor is removing large, heavy textbooks alternately from a shopping bag and her bookbag and placing them in a large stack on the table in front of her. Finally, she is finished and has a pile of about seven giant books.)
Jilli: “Are you trying to reorganize them so the weight is distributed more evenly?”
Taylor: (despondent) “No. I’m just trying to find my gum!”

(Doing one of those “rate things to bring with you on a trip from most to least important” activities, the situation being an emergency landing on the moon two hundred miles from the intended landing location)
Lindsay: “I think the matches should be next.”
Taylor: “Me too.”
Jilli: “I rated them last, because there’s no oxygen on the moon.”
Lindsay: “But–we need the matches!”
Jilli: “How are you going to use them?”
Lindsay: “We have oxygen tanks…”
Jilli: “Oh, okay. You’re going to light the match inside the oxygen tank. That sounds great.”
Charles: “I ranked them pretty highly, also.”
Jilli: (clearly outvoted) “Fine. Fine. Matches will be next.”
Lindsay: “I think the pistols should be number 14.”
Taylor: “I think the pistols are least important. We should choose the condensed milk.”
Lindsay: “We need to defend ourselves!”
Jilli: “Against whom?”
Lindsay: “Maybe other people that have also accidentally landed in the wrong place.”
Taylor: “No.”
Jilli: “Or aliens.”
Taylor: “There are no aliens.”
Jilli: “Does it SAY there are no aliens?”
Taylor: “I think we should take the milk. What if we run out of food?”
Jilli: “Then we can use the pistols to shoot one of us and everyone else can eat that person.”
Charles: “I somehow think Jillian isn’t really committed to the pistols over the milk.”
Lindsay: “We need protection! What use is condensed milk?”
Taylor: “Fine.”
(A few minutes later)
Instructor 1 (to instructor 2, in a whisper): “Were they talking about aliens? Is that on the sheet somewhere?”
Instructor 2: “No. This was apparently more of a projective test than we thought it was.”

Melissa: “A gang is really more just a big group of friends.”

Melissa: “I was teaching my class at 10:55, and the principal came over the loudspeaker and announced that there would be an assembly in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr. at 11:00. So, okay, I figured it would be bad if the only white teacher kept her class from this assembly, so we leave the classroom and head to the auditorium. Now, there are three third grade teachers: Ms. ___, who thinks there are four continents; me; and Ms. ___, who was leading the assembly. So she said ‘Can anyone tell us why we celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr.?’ And [one of Melissa's third-grade students] raised her hand, and went up to the front of the room and said ‘Because he led the Civil Rights Movement and fought for black rights.’”
Elise: “Awwww!”
Melissa: “And then Ms. ___ said, ‘No. The reason is because it is the third Monday of January.’”
Elise: “Are you SERIOUS?”
Melissa: “Completely. And then she said ‘I have a story about why it’s important to celebrate Martin Luther King. I read a scientific study recently–’”
Elise: “Oh NO.”
Melissa: “‘I read a scientific study recently, which said that black children use two percent of their brains, and Chinese children use six.’”
Elise: “Good lord.”
Melissa: “So she’s already comparing a racial group to a country. And then she says, ‘Do you know what that means? That means you have to use THREE TIMES AS MUCH of your brain.’”
Elise: “What does that even MEAN??”
Melissa: “And then we finished by singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Martin Luther King, so now all my students think he’s still alive.”

Deb: “I don’t know what Chris is talking about. Queens College apparently has 115 majors.”
Jilli: “Yes, but how many are real majors and how many are made-up majors?”
Deb: “Made-up majors?”
Jilli: “Like marine philosophy.”
Deb: “Marine philosophy? Like, ‘Are there really whales?’”
Jilli: “I think, therefore…dolphins.”
Deb:”I think, therefore I swim.”

And another from our trip:

At 11:30 pm after approximately 14 1/2 hours of on and off heavy walking through theme parks
Deb: “Okay. How far away are we from the exit?”
Jilli: “It’s over there, right past the fake United Kingdom.”
Deb: “How long do you think it’ll take to walk back to the hotel?”
Jilli: “Normally? Ten minutes. In this condition? …who knows.”
Deb: “Okay, well–ow. Ow. OW.”
Jilli: “You okay?”
Deb: “My ankle just quit.”
Jilli: “What about your knee?”
Deb: “My knee quit yesterday. And again this morning around 9 am.”
Jilli: “I feel your pain. My back has been killing me since noon yesterday.”
(Steps down off an elevated road)
Jilli: “Oh! Well, there goes my thigh.”
Deb: “What happened?”
Jilli: “I have no idea, but there is shooting pain.”
Deb: “I can’t feel my foot.”
Jilli: “I can’t feel two of my toes.”
(Five minutes later, walking back to the hotel)
Deb: “You know what we should have done?”
Jilli: “What?”
Deb: “We should have taken one of those things with the wheels that goes ‘bing.’”
Jilli: “What?”
Deb: “You know! It has wheels! And it goes ‘bing!’ ‘bing!’”
Jilli: “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
Deb: (frustrated) “Yes. You DO.”
Jilli: “…do you mean a BIKE?”
Deb: (happily) “Yes! A BIKE!”
(We laugh)
Jilli: “Oh! Don’t make me laugh!”
Deb: “I know. It hurts.”
Jilli: “No, you’re ruining my concentration!”
Deb: “For what?”
Jilli: “Walking!”

From our trip to Disney:

Monorail guy: “Hello! I am Chris and you are riding Monorail Orange. We are temporarily holding here awaiting further clearance. While we’re stopped, I’ll just make a few announcements. the Magic Kingdom is open tonight until midnight, with extra magic hours until 3 AM! I’ll be here! But WILL YOU?? And now for Mr. Voiceman, with our automatic holding spiel!”
Automated, recorded voice: “This monorail is temporarily stopped–”
(Monorail starts to move again, recorded voice is turned off)
Monorail guy: “Thank you Mr. Voiceman, that was VERY informative!”

Watching a soap opera in which two older people are making out
Deb: “EWWWW! I don’t want to see this! They’re old!”
Mom: “I don’t really want to see this either, and I like this show.”
Deb: “Ugh! Ugh!”
Character on show: “I can’t believe we’re necking in your car!”
Deb: “NECKING?? My god! Ugh! Turn it off!”
(later)
Deb: “Oh, let’s go back to the soap.”
Jilli: “You WANT to watch that?”
Deb: “They were necking! I wouldn’t want to miss them making whoopee!”

Deb: “Wait, what’s going on at 11?”
Dad: “It’s too cloudy, we won’t be able to–”
Mom: “No, on, let me–”
Deb: “Stop! What’s going on? Tell me!”
Mom: “Well, to the right of the moon…”
Dad: (repeating) “To the right of the moon…”
Mom: “To the right of the moon…”
Dad: (repeating again) “To the right of the moon…”
(Deb throws her hands up in annoyance)
Mom: “Jon!”
Deb: “Okay, okay. It’s to the right of the moon. Got it. WHAT is to the right of the moon?”
Mom: “Jon, you make it very difficult to–”
Dad: “I was helping!”
Mom: “You were being obnoxious.”
Dad: “That too.”
Mom: “Okay.”
(Deb wanders into the other room, still listening)
Mom: “Tonight, Mars will be brighter than–”
Jilli: (pointing at the TV) “Puppies!”
Mom: (Also looking at the TV) “Puppies! They’re so cute!”
Jilli: “They look like they’re made of terrycloth!”
(Deb storms back into the room, exasperated)
Deb: “Mars will be brighter than puppies? What the hell does that mean? Why does this family TALK IN MAD LIBS??”