9: can you open this for me please? My palms are too sweaty.
Me: are your knees weak? Arms heavy?
9: what?
Me: is there vomit on your sweater already? Moms spaghetti?
9: oh my God! I don’t even know the song but I know you’re rapping again!
Me: are you nervous?
9: stop!!!
These infographics don’t work on me because my takeaway is always that 17 donuts isn’t as bad as I thought
“‘ey kid READ THE SIGN!”
Him: don’t say anything embarrassing
Me [realizing there are no mozzarella sticks at this party]: I will punch a pregnant woman in the baby
In today’s installment of “getting absolutely wrecked by my child” I present her commentary on dinner:
“You did the best you could.”
I just farted & my dog looked at me like i asked her a calculus question
I asked my dad if he could hang a mirror in the bathroom for me but I guess I should have been more specific because he ended up putting it right over the toilet instead. Oh well, my son loves watching himself pee now.
STOP HONKING! IF I DRIVE ANY FASTER THE TINY LIZARD THAT HITCHED A RIDE ON MY HOOD IS GONNA FALL TO HIS DEATH. HAVE SOME COMPASSION, PEOPLE.
If chameleons were better at their jobs we wouldn’t even know there were chameleons.
guy who ruins jokes: what are you cooking
chef: updog
guy who ruins jokes: oh i love that
My superpower is turning “never again” to “ok, one more time”
*uses your voodoo doll as a tampon*
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
When I find myself with a simple problem, I stop, take a deep breath, and ask myself, “How can I complicate this?”
[Googling instructions for disarming a bomb]
For me, disarming bombs is indelibly linked to afternoons spent in my grandmother’s kitchen, watching her carefully iron the parchment paper that the nitroglycerin came bound in (to be reused at Christm
[Hurried scrolling]
Them: Are you the woman who overuses contractions?
Me: I’m.
only three people know my grandma’s secret tuna casserole recipe & two of them have been missing since 1957
Are you even a person if you were born in a generation that isn’t named after a letter?
Barista: Hangover?
Me: Motherhood.
Wouldn’t that be a cool twist if World War 3 turned out to be a U.S.-Russia thing after all? “So retro!”, you’d think as you were vaporized.
[falling down elevator shaft]
me: soon I’ll reach the elevator balls
HR informed me that grabbing Janet’s face because she was popping her gum is not “appropriate” but guess who’s not popping their gum anymore?
[spelling bee]
Your word is ‘impossible’
“Oh, well I guess no point in trying”
*walks off stage*
“play stupid games, win stupid prizes” bold of you to assume i am winning the stupid games
Turns out that the half-acre I bought is in an active tectonic zone. I’m on shaky ground here folks. I have a lot on my plate and it’s all my fault.
Me: I get scared. I can’t explain it. It’s a weird feeling when the change happens.
Friend: They’re just transition lenses. Please calm down.
[Couples counseling]
“It’s not good to keep these things bottles up, you know”
Okay, fine
*opens jar of wasps*
Ashley Madison website is having problems. But instead of addressing them directly, it’ll just look for a younger hotter website on the side
Happy “Venmo Your Siblings for Flowers” Day
“How old are you?”
Things you say to your third child.
Smoking is tricky. it gets me out of bed, it gets me outside. It gets me talking to the boys. It lets me look a little cooler than i should. It satisfies my oral fixation and my desire to fidget. It gives me an excuse to get a little snack at the store. But it’s french,
