“He's been hung up on a one-night-stand he had five years ago with a girl that smelled like Cocoa Puffs.”

“He picks up one of the tests and pretends like he's Harry Potter, aiming the test at random objects around the small bathroom yelling, "I curse you with my magic wand, punk toilet paper!”

“She smells like chocolate and I don’t like to be spanked.”

“Oh fuck, he was right there. I was wet as hell and he could probably smell me now. I should have eaten strawberries or melon or a dozen roses or an entire mint plant. Did that work for women? I read an article that it worked for men. Their spunk tasted like what they ate. Did my vagina taste like spaghetti right now? God dammit! I shouldn't have eaten dinner!”

“I am plenty romantic. Just this morning while he slept, I had left Carter a box of his favorite candy next to his pillow - Globs: piles of white chocolate covered, crushed potato chips and pretzels drizzled with caramel. I figured it would soften him up to the note I placed next to the box telling him if he left the toilet seat up one more time and my ass got an involuntary bath at six in the morning, I would put super glue on the head of his penis while he slept. I had even signed the note with a couple of Xs and Os. Who says romance is dead?”

“I had the phone in my hand all set to dial when Drew had finally decided to tell me that he pooped in the litter box a few times to see what it was like.”

“She’s calling our house. What ten-year-old girl needs to call a boy’s house? A slutty ten-year-old girl, that’s who. She’s got her sights on our son, and before we know it, she’s going to be giving him blow jobs on the back of the bus and forcing him to watch porn with her. This is our BABY, Carter!”