Me to wife: “I don’t need a grocery list, it’s only three things.”
Also me: *Forgets two of the three things and comes home with a llama*
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I have my binoculars ready for the upcoming solar eclipse. This is going to be amazing.
[interviewing babysitter]
me: how much do you charge?
ipad:
Plays “In Your Eyes” on the kazoo outside your window, dressed like a potato.
“What colour would you call this?”
“Fawn”
“What colour would you call this, o wise and beautiful identifier of colours?”
Angel: oh look, the humans are doing another sacrifice for you
God: [sitting in a sea of goats] it’s not another goat is it
3yo: I don’t want a walk
Me: Come on, it’ll be fun braving the elements
[An hour later]
3yo: *Very disappointed* Where are the elephants?
Welcome to night club. I know it’s dark, but that’s kinda the poi–
*metal screeching*
Dammit Steve! I told you knight club is downstairs!
When a billionaire dies, who inherits their senators?
2019: Tumblr blinks offline, satisfied, having completed its mission of collecting all existing TV and film footage as GIF files.
You won’t believe this, kids, but TV used to end. Every day. They played the national anthem, and then it just…stopped. Scary, huh?
Womens clothing designers: would you like it skin tight?
Me: uh no
WCD: how about moomoo?
Me: can I have something in between?
WCD: no can do
WIFE: Hey why are all our potatoes dressed in tiny outfits and arranged in a little scene?
ME: [hiding Photato Album] Why? Do you like it?
My 1yo has been crawling around with a croissant in her hand all morning. Not eating it, just clutching it. I think it’s her Emotional Support Croissant.
Doing taxes in the 90s:
Clippy pops up
“I see you’re trying to scam the tax system. Would you like help?”
One thing you learn how to quickly do as a parent is to pretend to not have any money when you walk by vending machines.
Please. Stop. Tweeting. Stop. Like. Stop.This.Stop. It. Stop. Looks.stop.Like.stop A stop.Telegram.stop so. Stop. Please. Stop!
Asking me if I want a bag for the box of tampons I just bought is like asking me if they’re for here or to go.
Hey I bet if lumberjacks had a dating app it’d be called Timber. And I bet also that if beavers had a dating app it’d also be called Timber. And I even bet—hell, I’m willing to say it—I bet if pirates had a dating app it’d be called Timber, too. You know as in shiver me
A Harry Potter spinoff series that focuses on Hermione’s origin story called Granger Things.
ME: [inflating second “E” balloon]
WIFE: Are you sure you know how to spell happy birthday?
Coronavirus is a middle school friend who’s mad at you for some reason but won’t tell you why “because you should know why” & you’re ignoring it & trying to act cool but everyone can see you’re slope shouldered/sad & this metaphor has gotten away from me LARA TELL ME WHAT I DID.
Twitter’s fun because everyone’s really cynical and snide about everything except *checks hand* … wrestling? that can’t be right
I worry a lot about the wild animals in my neighborhood but I’m beginning to think that they don’t worry very much about me.
the only time I can imagine clicking on a Facebook story is maybe if I got attacked by a bird while trying to do something else
[at wedding]
Pastor: If anyone opposes, speak now or forever hold your peace
Me (raises hand)
Pastor: It’s your wedding
Me (lowers hand)
Women who say getting married was the best day of their life have obviously never had 2 Kitkats fall out of a vending machine by mistake.
ME: My new contacts are here!
WIFE: Don’t put them all on at once like you did last—
ME: [eyes wide] I CAN SEE YOUR BONES
*breaks into museum*
*sprays fine mist to show alarm lasers*
*plays a sweet jam on boombox*
*krumps right into each beam*
[In car, headed to store]
7: What’s wrong, Mommy?
Me: *scratching* When I got my hair cut earlier, some little pieces fell down my back, in my shirt, and they’re itching me now.
[20 minutes later, in crowded Target]
Me: *scratches*
7: MOMMY, IS YOUR BACK HAIR ITCHING AGAIN?
Remember, that the reason your kids can be so fuckin annoying sometimes..
Is that they’re miniature versions of you