Yesterday morning we were supposed to leave the house at 7:30. As we pulled out of the driveway we had the following conversation...
T: (Looking at the clock) How's that for timing?
Me: (Glancing down and seeing that it was 7:31) Not good. We're a minute late.
T: (teasing) You're a brat.
Me: (coyly) What? We're a minute late.
T: We left the house at 7:28.
Me: (teasing) So it took three minutes to get out of the driveway?
T: No. It took three minutes to load up the boys.
Me: Yeah. So we're a minute late.
T: You are so ornery.
G: (interjecting from the back seat) Yeah, daddy, and you're Mario!
T & Me: (dissolve into fits of laughter)
I have no idea who Mario is and why on earth my son thought he was Ornery's partner in crime.