I had to run a couple of errands between then and now, so my memory might be a bit fuzzy, but I'll do best.
Friend 1: "Sarah"
Friend 2: "Shawn"
Future dad: "Sam"
Sarah: There is no good way to eat a taco. (There is a dismembered taco sitting on her plate.)
Shawn: I know, right? It's seriously the worst-designed food, like, ever.
Sarah: Back in [hometown], there's this restaurant that sells authentic Mexican tacos. There's no grease or anything, just chunks of chicken with guacamole and salsa and a bit of cheese on top, and it's SO GOOD. I really shouldn't even talk about them, it's just making me homesick.
Sam: You mean you shouldn't taco 'bout them?
My mom made meatloaf for dinner (it was fairly good).
While doing dishes, my dad decided to put the scraps and some grease on a plate of dog food. He put the plate and the ground and kept turning it to tease the dog. This was right by the backdoor, and since it snowed today, there was a towel on which the dog dried his feet.
Me: the dog peed from you teasing him!
Mom: that's on you, dad!
Dad: it's not on me, it's on the towel!