Me: Tel the doctor I’m coughing up a lung and need to be seen ASAP.
Medical Clerk: That’s awful, hun. How about a month from Monday.
My husband is extra efficient.
He leaves cabinets open for next time.
It’s adorable how breakfast assumes we’re all able to fast.
Freezing cake does not impede eating.
Stiff calories are still delicious.
Getting older sucks. I hurt my back trying to flirt.
I put my fake Christmas tree up in record time
then compulsively fluff it for a month.
My son hates how I fuss about his birthday at his workplace.
So this year the Mariachi band will not be wearing hats.
Me: You’re on my VERY LAST NERVE!
Even when food is heaven on Earth
my husband adds hot sauce till it tastes like satan.
Monster mom: Is it a GIRL?
Monster dad: Is it a BOY?
Midwife: It has 12 fingers and 4 toes. Just be grateful you created a monster!
Gosh, some tweeters are super nice.
One guy offered to trim my tree and another one wants to stuff my stockings!
My husband has Tourette’s Syndrome—
every time he drives.
Bone Doctor: Make 3 changes to your diet. Up calories…protein…and foods high in calcium.
Me: *eyes light up* So cheese, cheese and cheese!
You can say “Holy shit” in the waiting room of any a plastic surgeon.
But I don’t suggest you point.
There’s a bag of Hersey’s chocolate in the kitchen.
I’ve been smothering myself with kisses.