Arrive to pick up your kids from school 18 minutes early – park anywhere you want. Arrive 16 minutes early – park in Nicaragua.

So I could do without the stuffy nose, sore throat and pressure in my head, but this voice I got going is dead sexy.

I can’t decide which is more disturbing – that my six-year-old is planning her own funeral, or that she wants to be buried holding her iPad.

Settle down, tri-fold Christmas card senders. Settle the F down.

Wow. Student loans can’t be discharged in bankruptcy, but municipal pensions can. I haven’t been this troubled since Taco Bell began advertising “fourth meal”.

You know you’ve got road trip fatigue when you find yourself arguing with your wife about which of two fast food options is worse, point out how silly the argument is given the fact that they’re both terrible, chuckle about it, wait a moment – and then insist that she’s still wrong.

Arrive home after a week away and a combined four days of driving. Unpack your car, throw your kids in the bath, finally sit down on your own couch . . . and then realize you have to go to the grocery store.

Oh, the joys of explaining truck stop bathroom condom dispensers to your children.

It is perhaps the great irony of my life that my wife finds me most amusing when I do not intend to be so.

You two want to stay up and watch another fifteen minutes of Colbert, and I want more of the mango habanero salsa which is all the way downstairs. If only there were some kind of arrangement we could make . . .

Oh chili lime cashews, how can I stay mad at you?

All I’m saying is that if my party outfit resembled Neapolitan ice cream, I’d want to know that. Indeed, I would be hugely *grateful* to the person who alerted me of that fact.

I’m sorry, there seems to be some confusion with my drink order. I *did* ask for a Negra Modelo. But as you can see, I am sitting at a table with six children, so I’m going to need a much, much larger one.

You know you live in a town utterly lacking in diversity when an African American wearing a jacket and tie comes to your door and your four-year-old asks him if he’s the president.

So glad we got my son this dog so he could learn the important lesson of how to foist his responsibilities onto others.

Of course you can’t eat Halloween candy before breakfast. That’s not a healthy way to start the day. Now come sit down and eat your, uh . . . cinnamon rolls and bacon.

Erin is taking it easy by running the Dallas Tough Mudder this morning while I stay here and do the hard work of trying to fight my way through her share of pancakes.

I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted that my end-of-the-night cab driver just told me to make sure to stay in school.

Not sure what’s more irritating: the challenges we have house breaking this dog, or my youngest son pointing and laughing at me while I clean up dog crap.

Turn on NPR to learn something. Hear about NDM-1 bacteria. Vow to stop learning stuff.

Live tweeting my fever – it’s either genius, or the result of my fever.

Buying more Tylenol at CVS while sporting bed head and Crocks with socks. A hero? Only compared to some.

Step out of shower. Remember I have four kids. Step slowly back into shower.

3 baseball games, 2 birthday parties, 1 golf lesson, and a school fall festival – Friday is my other Monday.

Am I interested in serving on the reunion committee? Absolutely – provided of course that my transcript will be revised to make it look like that year I lived in the fraternity house never happened.

Technique for running with my wife: invent absurd things to fight about every half mile so she has to slow down to a brisk walk-and-argue pace.

Hamilton for US House of Representatives in 2014: because if we’re going to let idiots run the country, there should at least be one who admits he’s an idiot.

I think it’s time for the House and the Senate to settle this thing on the dance floor.

Totally made my kids listen to Styxx on the way home, in case you were on the fence about whether to report me to CPS.

All I’m saying is that Stanley Tucci probably gives great bro grabs.

Dad, your “awesome” playlist includes Der Kommissar and One Night In Bangkok . . . You do know what awesome means, right?

Learn that your wife is giving a speech at a charity function tomorrow both before and after the mayor speaks. Realize that she didn’t ask you to write any jokes for those speeches. Contemplate splitting up over creative differences.

Dear Doctor’s Office Scale, where’s the love?

I can’t be the only corporate lawyer who wants a braided beard.

When your across the street neighbor who might have a drug problem but who definitely has a butt crack exposure problem starts sleeping with your contractor, it may be time to find someone else to lathe your bannister spindles.

I don’t get nearly enough credit for all the fits I don’t throw.