Publishing Prodigy Prints

'They were hoping to gradually introduce him to the pro game, but injuries left them no choice.'

Computer Science Class 10101010101.

'Anything you can compute I can compute better. I can compute anything better than you.'

Mother puts extra long dummy in babies mouth.

'I think what we need now is someone called a computer programmer.'

Little chef.

"You're just gaming down there? Shouldn't you be issuing your first IPO for some billion dollar internet enterprise you've created?"

You don't have to explain the software to me. I wrote it.

"Should we keep the receipt in case of returns."

"The margin of error is plus or minus one hundred percent."

'The other kids at school say I might need glasses, Dad.'

"How do you expect him to grow up to be a pro if he doesn't start young?"

"He started talking yesterday. It didn't take him long to start a podcast."

'If he starts early enough, he could be the next Rory Mcilroy.'

'Beryl, I've been thinking.....'

'Dad a dachshund is really half a dog high and two dog long...'

"Cool game!"

'Bon Bons Away!'

'The doctor is ready to see you, Teddy...Bring your handler!'

"I know at least two people who will sleep easier with him behind bars."

'Is that the computer language you've been studying in school, dear?'

'So you're a billionaire... Now what?' 'Have you learned to clean your room yet?'

'I wrote a software program and sold it for two million dollars.'

"What're you in for?"

'He was offered a role in a sitcom and has the potential to be a successful child actor. We've already set up a legal defense fund.'

'You say it's milk, oh, oh, I must have hooked up the wrong pipes.'

Multi-core Mountain.

'This is Billy...my caddy and designated putter.'

"It's either "Bring your kid to work" day or it's "Drop of handbag in kindergarten" day today?"

'You should have called me sooner.'

'Maybe tomorrow.'

'We have a problem. The computer game he invented promotes violence. But he was offered $10 million for it.'

'And the coolest dad of the year award goes to... Dr. Armstrong for his note, 'to whom it may concern, my son is allergic to homework'.'

"I love having students around...their young brains are like sponges...they never seem to forget anything!"

'I think I'm losing it, man. I can't think of a weird name for our baby.'