My kids made a mixture of snow, corn chex, chocolate chips, and apple slices on the kitchen floor so now I need a new house
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[sitting on the deck with my son]
Me: look son, everything the light touches-
Son: yes dad?
Me: -you have to mow.
wife: what r u doing
me: shredding my birth certificate
wife: why
me: *starts disappearing* it’s working
The brownies I started making in my Easy Bake Oven in 1987 are ready if you guys want one.
Memorial Day was always my grandpa’s favorite holiday because he was a WW2 vet and also loved to buy mattresses.
I caved and put on a movie for my kid and her playdate but told her in this house we call movies “arts and crafts” in case her parents ask what she did here.
wow he looks just like him
Apocalypse 101: Don’t befriend the cool looking guy with a bunch of guns. Go with the one who knows how to tie knots, and can tell which plants are poisonous.
3yo stood in front of the electric door at the grocery store, kicking it and shouting, “Dammit! Open! Why does no one listen to me?”
I think she’s ready to be a parent now.
What’s the worst that could happen? Tried my lady’s body lotion on my face and my face turned into a body, kept doing that hoping to bring back my face and that’s how I ended up 37 feet tall
Middle of the night In bed:
*Loud noise*
Wife – Did you hear that?
Me –
Wife – I said did you hear that?
Me (under the bed) – Yes
COMPUTER: HINT: name of best friend
ME: Jen
C: Jen sounds nice
M: Wh-what?
C: Is Jen single?
M: Uh…
C: Answer the question. Is Jen single?
*walks away from an explosion in slow motion
*walks right into another explosion in slow motion
I suffer from a rare condition called OCDC, which forces me to salute all of those who are about to rock.
I’ll totally stroke your ego while you’re replacing my windshield wipers for me ’cause I’m nice like that
*cold day in hell
Satan: Dammit! Did some band get back together?
They’re not all brilliant, but they’re all mine. Meaning my tweets, and maybe my kids, whatever.
My oldest chicken is going through henopause
My wife walked in on me sobbing uncontrollably while listening to an old song.
“Meat Loaf?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied, between the tears. “Can we have baked potatoes too?”
Please, sir. Your gold chain is too arousing.
Give me a break, ouija board. I don’t need to know who was killed in this house. Just tell me how the murderer got away with it.
[date]
HER: Do you like Star Wars?
ME: Of course
HER: Which character do you identify with?
ME: *leans in close* The complete void of space
me: so what’s the policy on backpack snacks
skydiving instructor: absolutely not
[Call from cell company]
We can give you 15 gigs for $100
Me: Excellent!
*Puts the band back together
My favorite actual friendly mom competition is when we all stand around comparing how our children have creatively destroyed our furniture, carpets, walls and homes
“get your shit together” is my favorite weird expression of something no one would ever do, but everyone totally agrees is great advice.
Stealthily I approach the deer, removing an arrow from my quiver
Deer: I can see you AND you’re literally saying that out loud
Customer service stopped recording my calls for training purposes. There’s nothing to be learned from that much profanity.
Me: Please be quiet. I’m trying to hear this show.
3-year-old: OK
*breaks into song*
*turns on every talking toy*
*detonates fireworks*
date: tell me about yourself
me: I want to kill the moon
date: I have a bit of a dark side too
me: [narrows eyes]