Someday you'll thank me for this, son.
Not bloody likely.
No, it's true. When I was a boy, I wanted a catcher's mitt, but my dad wouldn't get it for me. So I held my breath until I passed and hit my head on the coffee table. The doctor thought I might have brain damage.
Dad, what's the point of this story?
I like stories.
Look, can I please go to the movie?
I know my punishment may seem a little harsh, but I can't go back on it. You're welcome to watch anything you want on TV.
TV sucks.
[low, angry voice] I know you're upset right now, so I'll pretend you didn't say that.






