Me: You can’t stay home by yourself.
8-year-old: You can trust me, Dad. I’m responsible.
Me: You’re holding nunchucks.
8: I’m holding nunchucks responsibly.
HIM: I’m not crying, you’re crying
ME: we’re all crying, this is a funeral
*gets hit by car
**back cracks
Me: Thank you!
Enters supermarket with a long list.
Exits with a six pack and rotisserie chicken.
Oh hey mom. Yeah the date went fine, I think she liked my jorts bc she kept glancing at them
*launders Kohls cash*
Romance isn’t dead it’s just playing happily on a farm up north.
She said she didn’t want me to touch her with a ten foot pole. I said ma’am I’m flattered but it’s not that long.
chiropractor: so how’s your back been?
backstreet: alright
🎶 I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly
I brought my niece (6) to Home Depot and was looking around when I heard her say to the paint guy, very loudly, “THAT MAN IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND” Lol thanks for clearing that up Emma
guys you should DM random girls shit like
“I heard the queen died and I got rly worried something happened to u, babe”
I wonder if my girlfriend jenniferbobmarklayla4362774463564636688 survived the bot purge?
[trying to explain blenders to medieval peasants without them thinking I’m a witch]
Imagine a knife tornado that made it so you can drink fruit.
The indescribable pain of having a client read off the options they see under “Settings.”