Anyone who says the art of conversation is dead hasn't been privy to the kinds of witty repartee that transpires between Shawn and I (minor editing to remove the irrelevant parts):

Shawn says:
(Sorry - I was aye-eff-kay.)
Jen says:
that's ok, I just cried
Shawn says:
Why?
Shawn says:
Oh, because of me.
Shawn says:
Right, right.
Jen says:
From the abandonment. And the hurt. And the sad
Shawn says:
I love the "yayaayyaaa" shiznit.
Shawn says:
Well, you know how I am.
Shawn says:
I'm a man, babe.
Shawn says:
I belong to the road.
Jen says:
oh?
Shawn says:
You can't tie me down with babies and marriage!
Shawn says:
I got to keep moving on.
Jen says:
But the wee ones need you, Shawnie!
Shawn says:
*picks up a guitar/leather jacket*
Jen says:
They need to know their dad!
Jen says:
And... and... *I* need you! *sob, sob*
Shawn says:
*pats you on the head* Don worry, l'il lady, I'm sure after Uncle Jimmy gets better from the operation, you'll have a chance to live out your there dream of bein' in pictures!
Jen says:
In the meantime, I'll have to keep dancing nights at the Ladies' Club... At least while the kids are small, I can keep them locked in the bathroom so they stay out of trouble
Shawn says:
*laugh* Nothing could possibly gro wrong...
Jen says:
Well, that is where I store the bleach and rat poison and industrial-strength cleaning agents, but aside from that, nothing

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And that's without this morning's discussion of how showing flesh is the only way girls can get ahead in government. Well, that or sleeping with your employers. :)