Garren: Ryker, you make cooking mac and cheese look like an art.
(Ryker had cooked noodles and hot dogs in one pan and was melting cheese then mixing it with the cheese sauce and milk in a smaller pan. He cried when he found out “washing his dishes” meant more than putting them in the sink.)

Garth: Man colds are real. My butt’s kicked.

Garren: My age is finally off the clock. (He’s 13.)

Garren: I can’t wait until I move out. It’s not that I don’t want to live with you. It’s just that you tie me down. 

Me: Please don’t eat that (sandwich) in the car. 

Garren: I’m not. I’m just admiring it with my tongue. 

Garren: Can you smell people?

Me: I suppose so...body odor, perfume...

Ryker: I smell like flowers.

Garren: I’d say he’s (Benny) our therapy dog, but we’re really his therapy people.