Wife: can you pick up milk on your way home
Me: can’t he just get a ride home with friends
Wife: again, our son’s name is not Milk
My 2yo was running an ice cream parlor out of his bedroom. I ordered chocolate but he insisted I get strawberry. After I paid he snatched the ice cream back and then ate it, not once breaking eye contact.
He’s going to be a terrible business owner.
But an incredible mob boss.
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– me whenever my wife sings while driving.
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No thanks hot air balloons. I prefer to fly in 75 ton metal tubes as God and the Wright brothers intended.
I accidentally started this account when I was looking for a banana bread recipe and things have gone horribly wrong.