The other day, in a post Christmas attempt to get something new to work, Sam was at the kitchen counter. I'm not sure what he was fiddling with; I was at the table eating and reading a book. John walked by and asked if he could help.
John, "Where are the instructions?"
Sam, "I don't know."
John, "You didn't read the instructions?"
Sam, "I'm a Dawson."
John, <looking over at me> "What does that mean?"
Me, <still reading and through a mouthful of bagel>" Instructions are for pussies."
Sam, "That."
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