No I don’t want to try your cranberry pie, my bladder is fine.
My husband sending mixed signals like, insisting we reduce our online shopping, but also buying and installing a bigger mailbox that “Holds a lot more.”
My sister got me this real fancy, expensive laundry detergent for Christmas, and I washed my bedding with it. The first night I dreamt I was drowning in a candle and the next I woke up with my blanket in my mouth. No one ever said the transition to boujee would be an easy one.
[Christmas Party]
*opening my gifts*
Well well well, if it isn’t the festive scarf I gave you 3 Christmases ago
The coins in my cup holder have bonded together and will be the problem of whomever owns my vehicle next.
Keeping 6 ft away from me may protect you from my germs, but you’ll need to be a lot farther than that to avoid the glare from my heavily-sequined Christmas sweater.
Santa said I can’t have a pool boy ‘til I get a pool. Foiled again.
After it’s spent a hard day protecting my phone I take my OtterBox off. I rest my case.
My husband messaged me upset that he couldn’t find his jacket. I can understand his confusion because I’d hung it on the coatrack.
“Keep it in your pants,” I say, refusing to put my husband’s heavy key ring in my purse.
My favorite body pillow is warm and fluffy and barks if anyone tries to touch me.
Husband: [wiping off dust] How long have these mixed nuts been in the pantry?
Me: Since I picked the last cashew out, I guess.
I’m wearing my brand new all white Nikes today, so please respect my personal space by extending it an additional 2 feet.
My sweet-as-can-be daughter who’s never even once gotten in trouble listens to podcasts about serial killers to relax, if you’re wondering about the healthy home environment I’ve provided.
On the bright side, when wearing a face mask, I pick my nose in public much less often.