Me: I know.
D: Your arms are covered in bruises, too.
Me: The Toddler keeps kicking the crap out of me.
Me again: (yawning), man, why am I so tired all the time?
D: Maybe it's cancer.
Me: Probably. Then I'll die and you'll have to raise these three kids all by yourself.
D: No, it's not that kind of cancer. It's just the kind where all your hair falls out but you still live.
Me: Is it at least the kind of cancer where you lose weight?
D: No. You'll just have to have your asshole removed or something.
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