Scene: Kitchen...15 minutes ago. 
Me(washing a paring knife): Sometimes I feel bipolar where you're concerned.
Kansas: What do you mean?
Me: Well...sometimes you drive me so crazy I can hardly stand it, and ten minutes later I never want you to leave my sight.
Kansas: Well, that's because you're a girl, and girls are fucking crazy.
...
Me: You better be careful, I'm holding a knife.
Kansas: Case in point.
Sometimes...I'm afraid I wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it hit me in the face with an oven mit.
