Parenting is a lot like a Tarantino film. Lot of questions and violent screaming.
Me: How are you?
Co-worker: *Gives 20 minute dissertation on their gastro infection*
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Me: Why don’t I have a boyfriend?
God: I sent you one, you dumped him for putting ketchup on his steak.
Me: Ah. That’s right. Gross.
Stepped on the scale to get a status update and up 5lbs.
However I worked out for the first time last night so I assume it’s muscle
Zombie wife: Is that Bob?
Zombie husband: *looks thru peep hole* Not sure, but he’s a dead ringer.
People who say that their wedding day was the best day ever have obviously never had two Kit Kats fall out of a vending machine
[food naming committee]
… Ok. Cow?
Baked & sliced?
6: Dad what’s a Kardashian?
Me: Nobody really knows…
6: Sounds really stupid
Me: I love you
*sings Batman theme
*crawls along bars of death
*rolls down slope
*knocks out foes
“Miss, you need to leave the playground.”
[showing my family to coworker]
This is a picture of my daughter & my cat. Mittens & Jack.
“You named your daughter Jack?”