I’m never hungrier than when someone says they’re paying
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gf: its over I can’t be with someone so cheap with such a bad temper
me: arghhh *grabs lamp and places it on it’s side against the wall*
What do you do when you’re soul searching and can’t find one?
*on death bed*
Kids: I had a bad dream, can you move over so I can sleep with you?
*gets kicked in the ribs*
Me: I don’t know what to do on my date
Friend: show her some local culture[later]
Date: hi
Me: *holds out hands* look at this yogurt
At bedtime I ceremonially move the claw clip from my hair to the bag of chips, signifying the end of the day.
This summer, West asked, point blank: “Dad, is Santa real? Tell me the truth.” And I told him & said he could now help carry the flame of Christmas magic for younger kids. He seemed proud. Last night he put it to use. He said, “Give me ice cream or I’ll tell maison about Santa.”
Wild horses could easily drag me away.
Probably a good sized dog or motivated cat could do the trick.
A big bunch of gerbils, maybe.
A school’s Open House is a great way to find out how many projects you’ll be doing for your kids all year.
Open your mind…
DEAR GOD CLOSE IT CLOSE IT CLOSE IT
Do you ever think about how many people squeezed the avocado that you’re eating?
Sometimes I feel like a decent parent and sometimes my kids start fiddling with the volume and temperature in my car without asking.
A 12-year-old just yelled out the passenger window of his mom’s SUV that I don’t look very attractive (I’m wearing a mask).
I can’t begin to express how relieved I am that preteen boys want nothing to do with me, so I will never be removing this mask.
My toddler held my hand all the way to the bathroom, gave me a kiss when I sat down, then stole my toilet paper roll and ran out of the bathroom laughing in case you were wondering what it’s like to be a parent.
My kid, “How old are you?”
Me, “47. Wait, 46. No, 47. Dang, I’m not sure.”*Pulls out phone and did the math. Turns out it’s 46.*
Kid, “Maybe you’re only 36.”
Me, “You are my favorite.”
Kid, “…and really bad at math.”
“My god,” I whisper as the food arrives. “Just as the prophecy foretold.”
Them: Do you know who you look like?
Me: No, and I’d prefer we kept it that way.
good for her
Tornadoes and marriage are alike, because they both begin with a lot of sucking and blowing, and in the end you lose your house.
I hate when you’re buying weapons-grade uranium and the guy is like “What are you gonna use it for?” It’s none of your business
I get it cicadas I’m ready to scream for six weeks too
Me: Do we really have to share my dessert?
Her: Don’t worry, I eat like a bird.
All this “Kaine is boring” talk is your reminder that nowadays Abraham Lincoln would have to know parkour or some shit
*looks at you in batman voice*
Getting noise cancelling headphones for when the kids are home is sound advice
Verbally offered £24k for a new admin job. Someone in HR transposed the digits so all my employment paperwork and contract state I’m paid £42k. It’s been 9 months receiving this higher amount per month and I’m not saying a WORD
the DJ an hour ago: hey if someone lost a black sweater we found it ! seems like it belongs to a child
my sister: how funny would it be if that was mom’s
my mom just now: i lost my black sweater i think :/
bout dat hot dog summer
Missing those days when “hemorrhoids” was just a challenging word to spell.
i like elevator conversations because i know there’s a time limit