Caskins

Chris: Wah! Caskins! [points up]
Me: Huh?
C: There's hundreds of them!
M: What's a caskin?
C: You put dead bodies in them.
M: Casket?
C: Oh, yeah, that's what I meant.
M: There's no caskets up there.
C: Are you blind?
M: No, you're sleeping.
C: No, I'm not.
M: Yes you are. It's impossible to have caskets on our ceiling. How would they get up there?
C: Flashlights.
M: How does that work?
C: Television.
M: Now you're making no sense.

Another talkative night

Three separate conversations!

Chris: Yawn. [points at fan]
Me: Huh?
C: It was shaking somewhat violently like it was going to fall on me.
M: The fan?
C: Yeah.
M: It's not moving.
C: Hm...

Chris: It's the chimish that I cherish every day.
Me: The what?
C: Chimish.
M: Chimish?
C: Chimish!
M: Chermer?
C: Chermer!
M: You cherish Charlie?
C: No. Chimish.

Chris: Well, I think tonight was a very fun day.
Me: Why?
C: There were lots of fun things that happened.
M: Like what?
C: Like levitating duckie bank.

The Craft and the Dating Game

Chris: This was the first part to get hit by the rock.
Me: What was?
C: The craft.
M: How'd it get hit?
C: It was...let's see...how did it go? [hums theme song from The Dating Game]
M: Are you singing that song again?? (he had hummed it a few times earlier in the day)
C: Yup.
M: So what got hit?
C: Huh?
M: You said the craft got hit.
C: Well, that doesn't make much sense.
M: I know. What's a craft? Like a boat?
C: No.
M: Like a skill?
C: Yeah. Kinda like manufacturing. Blacksmithing.
M: Like from World of Warcraft?
C: Yup.
M: [I go to write all this down, a few minutes pass]
C: [sings The Dating Game song again]
M: [laughs]

Old

Chris: I would like to actively point out how old I am in this example.
Me: Oh? How old are you?
C: Several hundred hours or so.
M: Oh, ok. Why are you pointing this out?
C: To give the younger ones a chance.
M: A chance at what?
C: Well, you know, to get off the ground.
M: Off the ground? Can they fly?
C: No. I'm speaking figuratively of course. Duh.
M: Oh, I see. So, is being old good or bad?
C: Mostly bad.
M: So, are you not doing well?
C: Well, they like me, so it makes up for things.
M: Is this a competition?
C: Survival of the fittest.

Spectacles

Chris: I'll find a thing of [mumbles].
Me: Of what?
C: Of spectacles.
M: Spectacles? For who?
C: Me.
M: Why do you need them?
C: To be invisible.
M: Invisible! How do they do that?
C: Huh?

A Special Treat

Chris has been unusually quiet lately, but here's a surprise: I was the one doing the talking last night! A tad embarrassing, but here it is:

Me: Chris!! Chris!! Get up! [shakes Chris violently] Get out of bed! There's a s-, a s-, a s-, a sp-, a huge spider in the middle of the room!
Chris: It's only Buffy. (the cat)
M: [jumps out of bed] No, it definitely wasn't Buffy! It was a huge spider! [runs to the door]
C: ....
M: [comes back and stands next to bed, inspecting sheets]
C: Come back to bed, it was only a dream.

I do vaguely remember this happening and I was terrified at the time.