A coworker started telling my kids a story with the sort of zeal you often see from people who don’t have kids of their own. It took less than 4 minutes of inquiries and interruptions for my son to completely break her spirit and bring storytime to a grinding halt. That’s my boy.

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Imagine meeting the person of your dreams and then finding out they use cutlery to eat a burger.


I was really excited when he said that condoms didn’t fit him, then he added “they fall right off”


[in the future]
Him: Hindsight is-

Her: don’t say it, you know that’s illegal now

Him: 19+1/21-1


Thunder only happens when it’s raining. Neighbors only mow lawns when you’re napping.


Ways I’m like a tea kettle: 1) need water 2) start screaming when someone forgets abt me 3) could burn down a house but probably never will


Dear diary, although he was a malevolent killer, the headless horseman was really well dressed. My emotions about this are confusing.


Not to brag but I’ve never met a chicken wing I didn’t like.


I hate it when I want wine and the wine home delivery man hasn’t been invented yet.


Pretty cool that there’s no law saying you can’t name your kid Squidward if you want.