Don't Mess with the Mayfield

This week, Ben says:

After chasing the cat for a "snuggle:
B: Gertie, I love you very much, but-- you know what? Sometimes I just wish you'd be still. (So young, so MUCH irony.)

Sunday night, dinner at my parents' house:
H: What friends do you want to have at your birthday party?
B: Ummmm.... lots. Like Riley, and Will, and Jack, and...
H: Which Riley?
B: Good Riley AND Bad Riley.
H: Ben. Remember, we're not going to call them that. Can you remember their last names?
B: Yep. Riley Wineinger and Riley Phelan.
H: Right.
?: Isn't Riley's dad a doctor? (I can't remember who asked.)
B: (emphatically) Nope. He just dresses up as one.
(Sorry, Ryan. I guess those years of college and that office you go to everyday is all an elaborate sham.)

While driving home from dinner last night:
B: Awww. That lady just dusted our car. GROSS!
H: What?
D: (laughing) That woman in the car next to us just blew cigarette smoke out her window toward our car.
B: That's horrible. Now our van is dirty. She's a BAD lady.

Preschool Pick up:
H: Hey, Bud! Did you have a good day?
B: Sure.
H: What did you do?
B: Ummm, why don't you ask Miss Lori. She knows.