Anything that happened before Gavin was born in 2003 is all sort of mixed up in his head. I put on Knight Rider and he watched a minute or so of The Hoff beating up bad guys, and said, “I don’t like this, it’s too 40s.”

Naomi: “Hey Gavin, do you want a Jack-in-the-Box for Christmas?”

Gavin: “Aw man, I hate Jacks-in-the-Box!”

Way to go with the proper pluralization!

(Large group of black people walks into Cici’s Pizza)


Gavin: “Oh my gosh! Packers!!”

Naomi and I: “(Nervous laugh) Uhh, what?”

Gavin: “Packers! You know, a big group of people that packs into a restaurant!”


(Watching Jeremy Clarkson drifting an Alfa Romeo around a track)

Gavin: “Oh my gosh, they have the most dangerous job ever! And he’s not even wearing any safety gear! Why do they call it Top Gear?!”

My mad scientist son

Dan: “Gavin, here’s a picture of your new babysitter.”

Naomi: “Ooh, I saw your eyebrows raise. You like her?”

Gavin: “I’m just thinking how I’m going to mutate her.”

Naomi: “I think you mean ‘manipulate.'”