Last night:

I come home.  Poe is folding laundry.  When he does tasks like this, he likes to blast music.  The kids also like the blasting music.  Poe is trying to talk to me, and we look like idiots trying to yell through the music to talk to each other.  I turned the stereo down two volume notches.

Logan marches over to me and puts one hand on one hip and points to the stereo.

Logan:  Why did you do that?

Me: So I could talk to your father without yelling.

Logan:  That…  Just does not Rock!