No one has done the dishes for like a week so I finally did the responsible thing and bought some paper plates.

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People say I mangle metaphors, but you can’t make an omelet without beating a few dead horses.


I’ll do anything once, twice if I like it, three times if I’m addicted which why I’m always in and out of rehab. I have a problem.


Me: Should we have macaroni salad or potato salad at the BBQ?

Husband: Can we talk about this when we’re not having sex?


Him: No more coffee for you.
Me: “Why? I’m fine,” I say while detailing the neighbor’s car.


Sometimes I wonder what ever happened to people who asked me for directions.


“This is beyond the scope of the project” —me after I haven’t understood how to do something


5yo after licking my face: “Sorry. My mouth meant to kiss you but my brain told me to lick you.”


I like running up to kids, punching a puppy in the face and screaming “WHERE IS YOUR GOD NOW?” And that’s my long-term solution to religion.


You haven’t lived until you’ve wrestled an alligator*

*dressed a toddler


“They say children learn by example, even for potty training.”

-I explain to my horrified neighbor as my son and dog poop on the lawn