OLDER SON: Don't run into the garbage can.
ME: I won't. There. Missed it.
OLDER SON: (triumphantly) Mommy fails to destroy the garbage can!
For posterity, he used this sentence structure because my husband and I have taken to retitling Clifford the Big Red Dog books in that fashion. Clifford Fails to Destroy Christmas, Clifford Fails to Destroy a Birthday Party, etc. I remember liking Clifford when I was a little kid, but as an adult all I can do is wince at the damage he keeps doing, albeit inadvertently--to say nothing of the amount of expensive maintenance he must require. That animal belongs in a professional zoological exhibition, or maybe in the military, but not in someone's house as a pet.