I'm taking Berit to her soccer game, and she asks me to open her juice for her. I have to steer the car with my knees and while doing so, and Berit remarks, "Sometimes Mommy steers with her knees when she's drinking coffee and talking on the telephone."

Irony:

We're at McDonald's with my sister and her kids. Rowan turns to me and whines, "Daddy... Emily called me a tattle-tale!"

"Daddy, God doesn't want us to fight... or to pull each other's hair." Rowan is expounding philosophically.
"Or to hit each other or punch each other in the neck."