From my teen years:

I’ll have another Bartles and Jaymes wine cooler.

But why don’t you want to be my boyfriend?

God, Mom, you’re so stupid.

I lost ten pounds eating only sunflower seeds and drinking Diet Pepsi.

From my 20’s:

Um, the head manager wanted me to tell you that you have a body odor problem and I’m really sorry but it seems that customers are noticing so could you take care of that, um, okay, sorry?

When we deconstruct the paradigm vis-a-vis our own constructed gender identities, we can see that Derrida’s notions are indeed correct.

Of course I’ll proofread your thesis/screenplay/surrealistic novel.

From my 30’s:

The line turned blue.

I’ll be right there to wipe your butt!

Please don’t eat the dog food.

I don’t need eight hours of sleep, really.

From my 40’s: (I’m less than a year into this decade so I can’t think of too many)

Sure, I can drive on three field trips this week.

That one, right there! Can’t you see it? It’s GREY!!!

What do you hope never to hear yourself say again?