<crash and crying coming from Griffin’s room>
“Were you playing on the rocking chair ottoman again?”
“Yes.”
“You hurt yourself more on that than any other thing in your room!”
“Yeah. It’s a killer.”

—

Grandpa: So, Griffin, do you think you’d like to come by yourself to Grandma and Grandpa’s house sometime?
Griffin: No, I don’t think so.
Grandpa: Oh? Why not?
Griffin: Well, I need someone to help me cross the street.

—

Griffin and Andrew were looking at the photo book I put together on Shutterfly, which we received in the mail today:
Andrew: Griffin! Please don’t wrinkle the pages like that! It’s permanent, that wrecks the pictures, and we want to look at this book for the rest of our lives.
Griffin: Ok, well, when we’re dying, then we can just wrinkle it.

—

Showing Griffin what I’ve knit so far of my sweater, he says, “Well, make sure you take the needles out before you wear it!”