Son: Mommy, I just hafta keep on talking. You know, talking. Blah de blah and stuff.

Me: Honey, I've just barely opened my eyes. You can talk, but I'm not going to answer.

Son: Mommy, why did the dog talk to the Ram?

Me: silence

Son: Okay, you don't know. It's a joke. Say WHY MOMMY?

Me: Why mommy.

Son: Hee! Because! Hee hee hee! Because!

Me: Uh?

Son: Because he's always butting in. Get it? Butt? Hee! Buuuuuutt.

Me: That's what they call it when a ram uses his horns to bang into something.

Son: I know, but it's funnier my way. Butt. Butt. Butt. Butt.

Me: Okay, enough.

Son: (in mocking sing-song) Mommy needs some quoa-fee cause she can't take a joke.

5 year old: Did someone just say butt?

Son: Pain in the butt! Pain in the butt!

Me: Really, enough now.

Son and 5 year old: Pain. In. The. Buuuuuuuutttttt!

Me: (over my shoulder as I head for coffee) No more Butt!

5 year old: I guess we'll have to sit on our elbows. Great.