Quarter Inch Dowel

Typical night-time discussion at our house goes something like this:

Setting: Kitchen

Hubby and Mom clearing dishes and listening to some foolishness like Cross Country Checkup on CBC. I'll be ranting about Rex Murphy being a controversy-stirring lump of uselessness while hubby attempts to play devils advocate.

Children offstage left. Quibbling. Bickering. Altogether fighting.

Enter Harrison, with hand to head, a limp and a pronounced whine:
"Mom. Teaghan hit me in the head."

Teaghan (still offstage, voice heard loud and clear though): "I said sorrry!"

Mom: "Yes, well, there you go. Steal her kiwi, she hits you on the head. Take your lumps."

Harrison: "I didn't steal her kiwi."

Teaghan (still offstage): "Yes you did!"

Harrison: "Mom . . . ."

Mom: "I don't care! If Teaghan hit you on the head, I don't care. If you bounce a piano off her skull, I don't care! If she drops a 2X4 down your pants, I don't care!"

Mom then breaks into "I don't care" dance, shuffling feet, kicking legs singing "I don't care. I don't care. You can kill each other, I don't care."

Everyone gathers to laugh at mom. Quibbling forgotten for a moment.

Husband shaking head.

Husband brightens.

Husband: "I've got a 2X4 in my pants!"

Mom: "Yeah, right. More like a 1X1 or - not even - a piece of stripping maybe."

Husband (dejected): "Don't you mean quarter-inch dowel"

Mom: "Yup, quarter inch dowel, about this long a piece." (holds fingers about 2 centimetres apart)

Husband: (head hanging in shame) "Okay."

Kids laughing - though they've no idea what we're talking about. Mom laughing uproariously. Husband trying not to laugh.

What kind of conversations do you have?