At the end of a day: "We're running out of sunshine, Mummy."
G: Why did you put the windows up?
Me: Well, I`m not sure if we are going back in the van today, and they say it might rain.
G: Who says?
Me: The weatherman.
G: Jesus? Jesus is the Weather Man, Mummy.
Look how long my poop is! It's as long as the 401!
Rod: I am very satisfied.
G: I am happy-fied.
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