My wife has like 20% of a conversation in her head before she decides to bring me into it.
We can be driving in silence and she'll just be like "and then we'll pick the kids up and go straight from there."
For some reason, Boys got a Potato Head, yet the girls got Carrots and cucumbers...
For the record, I was never allowed to have a My Potato Head, the likely cause of my PTSD.