Avoid getting crumbs in your bed by eating in your kid’s bed.
You Might Also Like
Just send him 60 texts explaining how you understand he needs his alone time.
You: Cute kid. What’s his name?
Me: Kenwood.
You:
Me: I’m really into stereotypes.
*Gets left on read for hours*
Me: “I’m never talking to them again”
Them: *Finally replies*
Me:
What I say: I’m on a diet. What my mom hears: please cook delicious food and buy chocolate.
#parenting
LinkedIn really flies under the radar as the social media platform that’s absolutely the most unhinged
Stop calling it “sweater weather” and call it what it really is, “I don’t have to shave my legs for 6 months weather.”
A family of ducks walks into a church. “Hi, yes, umm…I hear you have a man who turned his body into bread?” The father asks timidly.
If the kids knew there was a light in the attic, they would leave that one on too.
Imitation is the sincerest form of crabmeat.
GHOSTBUSTER: so wait, you called us because your neighbor painted his fence purple?
ME: it’s strange, weird, and it doesn’t look good—your lyrics couldn’t be more clear about this
ME: *trying to remember name of someone I met 2 minutes ago*
BRAIN: “Nope. I got nothing. Unless you want complete lyrics to 90s songs?”
Worst ways to die
1. Burned alive
2. Suffocate
3. Die from frustration teaching your child to blow their nose
Boycott kissing men at midnight. It’s New Year’s Eve not New Years Steve.
Every room is a panic room if someone over 40 in there ate cheese in the last hour
just because your parents planned you doesn’t mean you weren’t a mistake
On the upside, my kids are helping with the dishes. On the downside, my kids are helping with the dishes.
I can tell exactly how much someone weighs by how much noise they make when I push them down the stairs.
CAPTAIN AMERICA: Avengers, assemble!
*points to a bunch of IKEA shit he just bought for the headquarters*
There’s no such thing as “elevator etiquette” buddy. Just enjoy your back scratch.
SO SPEAKETH THE OUIJA BOARD, “N E W N U M B E R W H O I S T H I S”
Them: Who is your favorite…
Me: My dog
Them: No, I wasn’t finished. I meant, who is your favorite…
Me: My dog
I cannot afford to get my wife a new Lexus for Christmas so I’ll be tying a red ribbon on a pair of Sketchers and setting them in the driveway.
WIFE: Did everyone at work enjoy the cookies I baked?
ME: [pretending I didn’t eat them all on the drive in] WHATS WITH ALL THE QUESTIONS?!
The reason Twitter shows “Twitter for iPhone” or “Twitter for Android” is because Jesus will use it later to decide who goes to heaven. Android users obviously.
To the person who brought multi-grain chips to the party- you could have just said you didn’t want to come.
My immune system was built by my grandmas and aunts licking their thumbs to wipe food off my face.
I only carry cash anymore in case I need to make a dramatic exit in the middle of coffee with a detective