On tomorrow's trip to Stingray City:
Mom: We're going to where they conjugate.
Everyone: ???
Me: You conjugate a verb, Mom.
Mom: Well the place where the snorkelers go to swim with them.
Me: Where they congregate.
Mom: Yeah, that. We'll be diving, so we won't be in the area where you can feed them by hand.
Chris: Good, that's dangerous. They killed someone, Mom. He was a celebrity and they stabbed him in the heart.
Dad: So we're living on the wild side.
Chris: Seriously. This is like soaking your hand hamburger and punching a lion in the mouth Then trying to see if you can get your hand back. That's how dangerous this is.
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Me: Sterling, as an alcohol connoisseur, aka frat boy, is there any truth to the whole 'getting drunker when drinking through a straw' thing?
Chris: Yes.
Me: Really?
Chris: Well, let me just say, 'Empirical evidence point to the veracity of that statement.'
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(After hitting a couple of crabs on the drive back)
Dad: I was trying to miss that one!
Chris: Well you're doing a piss-poor job! You would have been better staying where you were. ... I think you got an arm there.
Dad: If they would just cross in front of the lights they would be a lot easier to avoid...
Chris: But instead they cross under your tires.
Mom: I'm not going to eat crab on this island.
Chris: Because obviously the locals come and pick up the road kill to serve it to unsuspecting tourists.
Mom: No, but you don't see any flattened crabs during the daylight.
Chris: Of course, that's because the poor local children come and take them for sustenance.
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