"Mama doesn't have a diddle (DS's word for willy). Stop pointing".
"No, I'm not going for a wee-wee or a poo. I'm going to the counter to order our lunch. Stop shouting poo."
"Stop trying to hug drunks!" as we were walking through one of the nicer areas of town.
"I'm sure I'd look lovely wearing two pairs of pyjama pants, Daddy's boxers, one of your vests, and three pairs of knickers but I'd much rather go for jeans and t-shirt, okay? ... Tantrums will get you nowhere".
"Where is all of Mama's underwear!?", took me bloody ages to find it as well, one minute the drawer was full and the next it was empty (turns out he'd thrown it all over the side of the banister, eventually found it all scattered down the stairs).
He's not even two yet, I'm dreading when he can actually talk!
Oh, and "put your pants back on" at least twice a day. He also does the Mama's knickers on his head thing.