Sebastian is our fifteen-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.
One day, while making dinner, Sebastian and I were talking about the champagne I just opened (it was a Gosset Grande Réserve).
Me: “This used to be my favorite champagne.”
Sebastian: “What’s your favorite now?”
Before I got a chance to answer….
Seba: “What about Dom Pérignon? Have you had it?”
Me: “Sure.”
Seba: “Is it good?”
Me: “Quite.”
Seba: “Have you ever met him?”
Me: “Who?”
Seba: “Dom Pérignon.”
Me: “He died in 1715.”
Seba: “Oh. Have you met, like, Dom Pérignon the 4th or 5th or something?”
Me: “He was a monk.”
Seba: “Yeah, but have you met any of his, you know, like, great-grandchildren?”
Me: “He was a monk.“
Pause.
Seba: “Oh! So no kids? Oh, I get it.”
the drunken cyclist 