“Yeah, well, I’ll be glad to birth it if it means I can name him something normal. (Zarek)Yeah, yeah. This from a man who whines like a two-year-old when he stubs his toe. I’d like to see you survive ten hours of childbirth. (Astrid)”

“Would like to join me? (Astrid)I think I’d look strange in a bikini. (Zarek)Was that a joke? Can it be you made a real joke? (Astrid)Yeah, I must be possessed or something. (Zarek)”

“Menoeceus is a great name. (Astrid)For an old man or a feminine hygiene product. Not for my son. And next time I get to name the kid and it won’t be something that sounds like meningitis. (Zarek)You keep that up and next time you’ll be the one birthing it, and don’t mess with me, bucko, I have connections in that department. A pregnant man is not an impossibility in my neighborhood. (Astrid)”

“It wasn’t a gun wound. I just fell. (Zarek)No offense, but you’d have to fall of Mount Everest to have those kinds of wounds. (Astrid)Yeah, maybe next time I’ll remember to take my climbing gear with me. (Zarek)”

“Zarek? (Astrid)What?! (Zarek)Don’t use that tone with me. I like to know where people are in my house. Be nice, or I’ll make you wear a cowbell. (Astrid)”

“I can tell you love him. (Syn)Yeah, like a boil in my nether regions. (Kiara)”

“Menoeceus wants his father. (Astrid)Bob is crying because he wants his mother to stop calling him that crap-ass name. It’s all right, Bob. Daddy’s got you now. I’m saving you from Mommy’s bad naming taste. I’d be crying, too, if my mom named me after an idiot. (Zarek)”