Me, to Joey, after she’d come down the stairs for the fifth time and convinced Brad for another refill of milk: 

“Joey Michele, this is it. If you come down again, I’m turning that t.v. off. (Pause, as I watch Brad stare into the fridge) Honey, do you want to reinforce any of this with her, please?”
Brad, grabbing the jug and shaking it, clearly ignoring my question: “Are we almost out of milk again?” He fills J’s bottle as I continue to wait for a response. Joey runs behind him and yells, “Horsey, daddy!” and jumps on his back. 
Brad, lifting her up and heading towards the stairs: “No, we don’t need a horsey, Joey. We need a cow. Yes, we need a cow.”
Nice parenting with you, dear.

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