We'd just finished buying pet supplies and I closed the trunk, while my husband and son got in the car. The trunk popped open again, and I closed it. It happened again. And again. Finally it stopped popping open and I got in the car.
My husband said, "I'm sorry, the release button got stuck and it just kept popping the trunk."
Me: "I thought you were messing with me."
Him: "No, I value my testicles too much."
Son (finally noticing one word in the conversation): "What are you saying about testicles?"
Later, after teasing my husband about various things:
Him: "You know what? I was messing with you. Retroactively."
Me: "I hope you enjoyed your testicles while you had them."
Him: "I'm sleeping in chain mail speedos."
Son: "That would chafe."
Yes, we have conversations like this all the time. (Ok, maybe not about testicles.)
My son loves his new job, even if he is working near Uranium 238 (which he assures me is the bad kind, to which I think, "There's a good kind?"). He says his big problem is that one of the guys he's working with isn't psychic. Evidently having conversations with me has spoiled my son for having conversations in the real world :)