80% of marriage is pointedly yelling an irritated “WHAT?!” to make your spouse understand that there’s no chance in hell you can hear what s/he’s saying from five rooms away, around three corners, down two hallways, and over the cacophonous screams of hyper children.
I don’t always drink iced coffee, but when I do, it’s because my kids prevented me from drinking it hot so I gave up and added some ice.
60% of parenting is making grand plans to do something special with your kids and then hoping they forget about them so you don’t have to go.
My son is desperate for me to walk to the coffee shop and get him a chocolate croissant.
7yo: You’re being lazy! You’re just doing what YOU want to do!
Me: I’m doing work so we can afford the coffee shop. Are you?
7yo: No.
Me:
7yo: But I go to school so you don’t go to jail.
Me: You gotta get dressed, kiddo, we’re leaving soon.
7yo:
Me: Get dressed, please.
7yo:
Me: Please get dressed.
7yo:
Me: Hurry up and get dressed.
7yo:
Me: Put your clothes on.
7yo:
Me: We have to leave in 3 minutes!
7yo:
Me: GET DRESSED RIGHT NOW!!!!!
7yo: Ok! Don’t yell at me!
Time zones shouldn’t be based on geography, they should be based on age. For example, you may think it’s only 10:30, but for a 40yo, it’s actually two in the morning.
Saying please to a toddler is like being polite to a tornado.
*decorating the tree*
6yo: Dad, can I help?
Me: Of course! First we string the lights, then we show Mommy & she tells us what we did wrong.
Get married and have kids so you can spend your Saturday going apple picking instead of doing LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE.
“Wow, Dad, you had two beers and then ANOTHER ONE?!”
– My 3yo, auditioning for a new family.
6yo: What’s for dinner?
Me: Pork medallions.
6: I HATE THOSE!
Me: I’ll give you $1000 if you can tell me what either pork or medallions are.
Literally nothing makes me more angry than watching my kid yawn an hour after he dragged me out of bed at 5am.
I’m so sick of everyone asking if I *really* hate my kids. They’re just jokes, people. Annoying, inconvenient jokes who are ruining my life.
My baby reminds me of Freddy Kruger: he’s got long, sharp fingernails, is most terrifying at night, and forces you to survive on no sleep.
I like having multiple children because that way if one doesn’t happen to be screaming there’s always another around to pick up the slack.