Oreos

 Our package of Oreos wouldn’t quite fit in the gallon bag, so I cut an inch of the plastic shell off. Austin shrieked soundlessly as if being raped.

Me: Now it fits in the bag. Now the cookies will stay fresh.

Austin: I’ll remember this when you die. I’ll cut your feet off, so you’ll fit in your casket.

Me: I want to be incinerated and turned into ash.

Austin: I’ll cut your feet off before we stick you in the oven. Cremation is expensive. I’ll cut you into tiny bits, then we can do it at home in our own oven.