McD's drive-thru last night, after we picked up the nephews from soccer practice:

Ret to Kev: 2 cheeseburger happy meals, one plain, two cokes.

Kev: 2 cheeseburger happy meals, one plain, two cokes.

Ret to Kev: 1 fish sandwich.

Kev: 1 fish sandwich. make that two, one tartar only.

Ret to Kev: 1 quesadilla.

Kev: 1 quesadilla.

Attendant: Excuse me. Did you say, quesadilla?

Kev: yes. 1 quesadilla.

Ret: (wetting myself silly)

Attendant: I'm sorry sir. We don't carry quesadillas.

Kev: I'm sorry. She's joking.

Kev to Ret: I was thinking about ordering two...

Nephews: much giggling...

Later last night:

We're watching Kevin fill up the van. Well, put $20 in the van. Thing is, I've NEVER seen him nail it and I engage the nephews in a bet to see how many pennies over he goes this time. I'm in for 2, Chandler's in for 1 and Harrison is still eating his plain cheeseburger. Click. $19.96. Click. Click. $20.04. Nuts. I declare winnings simply for the fact he didn't nail it. Again.

We're pulling out and granted it's a bit tricky leaving the Hy-Vee station to make a left. And actually, you're not supposed to make a left. Which is why the sign is there. The one Kevin isn't seeing until I point to it. So, with a little frustration about the exit abortion he circles around to head a different direction muttering something about "how's he supposed to read that little (standard) sign." Then this little first grade voice says: DO NOT ENTER.

Later still:

We're pulling into the Taco Bell drive-thru to order something for the niece who joined us after the previous stops. The boys are begging Kevin to order...Happy Meals.