Sitting in the ER with Peanut because Moon got angry and kicked Peanut in the hand. It looks like Peanut's finger may be broken. People in front of us include a man who cut his hand with a power tool, a man who got hit by an opening car door while riding his bike, and two women in labor:

Peanut: Mom, why aren't they calling us back yet?
Me: We have to wait our turn.
Peanut: But why are all these people in front of us?
Me: Because they're all injured.
Peanut: But Mom, I need to go in front of them. My injury hurts!

Sitting in a room in the ER, waiting for X-Ray results:
Me: I spy, with my little eye, something wiggly and small.
Peanut: My penis?

Upon learning that his finger is actually broken:
Peanut: Ooh, Moon is DEAD! Mom, what are you going to do to him?

Getting his finger splinted:
Me: Why are you crying? It's not that bad.
Peanut: This is terrible!
Me: What?
Peanut: Now I can't thumb wrestle!

Waiting for discharge papers, admiring his splint:
Peanut: Mom, when my finger is all healed, do I have to give this splint back?
Me: No, you get to keep it.
Peanut: Mom, I don't know this for sure, but when someone gets out of jail, I think they get to keep the handcuffs.
Me: No they don't.
Peanut: Have you ever been to jail?
Me: No.
Peanut: Then you don't know that for a fact.

Later, at dinner, for some reason discussing porcupine penises:
Me: Who has a bigger penis, Peanut, you or a porcupine?
Peanut: Moon!

In the car on the way home from dinner:
Peanut: When I grow up, I'm probably going to be a retard.
Me: Why do you say that?
Peanut: Well, because when I was, like, six and five and four, I was retarded. So, I'll probably be a retard when I grow up, too.