The 11-year-old, 'What planet are you from, Mum! Potatoes aren't vegetables, they're carbs!'
Me: 'Trust me, they're vegetables.'
The 11-year-old: 'How can you say that something that just pops out of the ground is a vegetable! It's a carb.'
The Vicar (diplomatically): 'They don't just pop out of the ground. Mum worked very hard digging them up.'
The 8-year-old: 'Who do you think's the prettiest girl in this room?'
The Vicar (diplomatically): 'Both of them!'
The 11-year-old: 'What? You're saying mum's pretty! She's middle-aged!'
The 8-year-old (singing): 'Mama do the hump, do the hump hump...'
The 11-year-old: 'He's singing about humping, Mum. Why don't you tell him off?'
Me: 'Please don't sing about humping at the table.'
The 8-year-old: 'OK, I'll sing it in my bedroom.
Me: 'No, I mean just don't sing about humping. At all.'
The Vicar (diplomatically): 'Who can remember what the fruits of the spirit are from the service?'
The 8-year-old (glaring at his sister): 'What I remember from the service is that she ate loads of the cake afterwards and I didn't get any.'
The 11-year-old: 'Don't listen to him. He's a liar.'
The 8-year-old: 'Don't listen to her. She's evil.'
The 11-year-old: 'Hold on everyone, I'm going to burp!'
Me: 'If you dare...'
The Vicar (diplomatically): 'Did you say there were Cornettos in the freezer?'
What are your family meals like? Can you suggest improving topics for discussion next Sunday lunch time?