Baby 1: I hate this Benjamin Button disease and I long for the days of my youth. Or is it the days of my old age? Haha, it’s always hard to tell.
Baby 2: I hate it, too, but we had some good times.
Baby 1: We sure did. Remember when we were kids and you slipped on a patch of ice outside the druggist’s and broke your hip?
Baby 2: I sent you a telegram at your mah-jongg game and you hurried over right away. What was that old horse’s name, anyway?
Baby 1: Racist Molasses.
Baby 2: It’s a shame how they had to turn her into glue for the war. Hey, speaking of phillies, remember that old dame you used to shack up with?
Baby 1: Who, Edna?
Baby 2: Ha! Edna Goldblatt! Yes. I haven’t thought about old Edna in 20 years. She was a real peach!
Baby 1: She sure was. Wait, what do you mean she was a peach?
A full translation of this argument after the jump:
Baby 2: What do you mean, what do I mean?
Baby 1: I mean exactly what I said. What exactly do you mean by calling Edna Goldblatt a peach?
Baby 2: Wait, you know that Edna and I were an item, right?
Baby 1: EXCUSE ME?!
Baby 2: Oh come off it. You knew. Didn’t you? You had to have known.
Baby 1: You both seem to have failed to mention it.
Baby 2: Look, it wasn’t a big deal. We met one night at one of those terrible Gin Rummy dinner parties that Helen used to throw. You were there.
Baby 1: Yes, I was there, with my DATE, Edna Goldblatt.
Baby 2: Don’t get all bent out of shape. It was no secret that Edna Goldblatt enjoyed the company of men. Besides, that was 60 years ago.
Baby 1: Well, this is a shock.
Baby 2: If you weighed more than 20 pounds, I would suggest that you have a drink to calm your nerves, but you’d probably just barf it up all over your binky.
Baby 1: Damn this foul disease!
Baby 2: Whoops. I just pooped my pants.
(Video via TheDailyWhat.)