I stuck a “Baby On Board” sign on my minivan to warn the other drivers how fussy and tantrum-y I get when traffic’s bad or I miss my nap.
Her: So what do you do?
Him: I’m a pickup artist.
Her: Pig! [leaves]
Him: *sighs* [puts away prints of exquisitely painted Ford F-150s]
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Whenever I feel sorry for myself, I take my children to the grocery store. And then there’s like 40 people feeling sorry for me.
God: you’re a yak.
Yak: actually i’m an emo cow.
Yak: why do you think I grew my hair out?
Yak: cause i’m going through some stuff right now.
Yak: guess my favorite band?
Yak: my chemoocal romance.
God: [nods] you ARE an emo cow.
Probably the worst part about being a snail is how you can’t put salt on your French fries.
M: Still? It’s been a week
K: YOUR FIRST INSTINCT DURING A CAR ACCIDENT WAS TO PROTECT YOUR PHONE!
M: You didn’t die. Calm down.
DAUGHTER: Mom asked me to check on you and the eggnog making
ME [wrestling a screaming chicken into a blender full of milk]: GRAB ITS LEGS
dad: “what’s that nice french place we went to called again?”
dad: “that’s the one”
Woah, woah! Lets see some I.D., Kid!
LOLZ!! Just kidding! Press that button and come on in!
turns out Xenophobia is not ‘A fear of Warrior Princesses’