Ben is trying to get cling wrap onto the leftover casserole and is failing. The cling wrap is wildly sticking to everything, including itself, and refuses to tear. I end up helping him hold it still while we wrestle it into place.
Ben: ARGH! I hate this stuff! You have to keep it perfectly straight or it gets everywhere!
Me: (talking for the cling wrap in a Cletus-moron voice) "YAY! I KAN STICK TO FINGS!"
Me: Why do we always go for the moron voice when describing things?
Ben: Well, it is the moron of the drawer.
Me: True. Parchment paper is the snooty cousin.
Ben: The Ziploc bags are the...
Both: ...nerds / techy types.
This is where I fling my arms around him and smooch him soundly for not just laughing at my joke, not just making a joke of his own but finishing the joke with the same bizarro thoughts as me.
This is why we fit. It is also why our children don't have a snowball's chance in Mordor of being normal.