Sebastian is our sixteen-year-old son and he says some of the funniest things–we have no idea where he gets his material since his mother and I are rather boring, serious people. 

Sebastian was looking over some oats-over-night flavors that my wife bought him. 

Seba: “Strawberry, Boston cream pie, salted toffee, chocolate Satan pie. Whoa. Satan? What the heck? I’m not eating that one. What a dumb name.”

My wife: “Read it again. It’s not ‘Satan’.”

Seba: “‘Chocolate Satan pie’”

My wife: “How is it spelled?”

Seba: “S-a-t-i-n.”

My wife: “Exactly.”

Seba: “Huh?”

My wife (to me): “How do you spell ‘satan’?”

Me: “S-a-t-a-n.”

My wife: “Exactly.”

Me: “You need to read more, Seba.”