Where's The Application?

Last night, Lo and I were watching Super Nanny, an episode where the family had twin six-year-old boys and a five-year-old girl who pitched epic fits at the dinner table and couldn't wipe their own asses. As appalled as Jo was, Lo was fascinated.

Lo: How old was I when I started wiping myself?

TR: Too old. Four, I think. You could skate and ride a bike.

Lo: Wow. How long do you think that kid will sit at the table not eating her carrots? Just eat 'em already.

TR: You're one to talk. Look--she's starting to nod off. That's right; send her straight to bed.

(Cutting to commercial, they flash the website and call to apply for the show)

TR: Ooh, I'm SO gonna sign us up. See if she can straighten you out.

Lo: Whatever. I would just behave while she's here. You'll look like the one with the problem.

TR: I don't think you could do it.

Lo: Be glad you don't have fourthlets.

TR: Huh?

Lo: What's it called when you have four babies?

TR: Quadruplets.

Lo: How about twelve?

TR: Suicide.