When I told him that I thought pregnant women who wear floral prints look like couches he looked up and, studying the polyester flowers on my shirt for a moment, replied, "No, you look more like an armchair."
His idea of turning the Jeep Wrangler into a "family sedan" is installing a backseat--with seatbelts, and replacing the five-point harnesses in the front seats with "civilian" seatbelts.
When he hears tornado sirens, he goes outside to storm chase on foot.
He has not one, but TWO motorcycles. I'm not sure exactly how the math works out on this one, but I believe it effectively doubles his chances of falling off. I wouldn't put it past him to try to ride them both at the same time.
One of these motorcycles was a "surprise" purchase.
Today I was more excited than usual about my mid-morning snack of Frosted Mini-Wheats. Not only was it a brand new box, it was a brand new box with a toyinside! Fumbling with the cardboard lips on its top, I ended up basically ripping them in my haste to get inside (note: I'm also very hungry at this point). Right there, sitting on top of the bagged cereal, was a separately wrapped Star Trek "beam up" toy. I had to pause.
It was too easy. They put the toys on top of the cereal now? What about the warped and mangled bags that won't fit back into the box? What about the Cap'n Crunch binges, the war scars of a scratched hard palate, all in the name of five minutes of amusement from a cheaply designed, Chinese factory assembled toy (probably some kid younger than me made it)?
It was never about the toy. It was about the look of disappointment on my brother's faces when they realized they'd been duped again. It was always worth the whoopin' for making a mess of the cereal, and for the ensuing fight between said brothers and self.