If I’d married a wealthier man, I’d be lying on a fancier couch right now refusing to clean bigger rooms.
Why is it cute when a baby falls asleep clutching a bottle. Yet, when I do it, it’s “disconcerting”?
I hate it when I’m cleaning the house and suddenly find a bowl of ice cream in my lap and my soap opera on.
Me: The dog ate the meatloaf I made for you.
Him: That’s okay. I’ll pick up a pizza and bury the dog when I get home.
My hot flashes are so bad, I’m not allowed to go anywhere near Greenland.
I tried getting my ducks in a row but 2 can’t swim, 3 have bad attitudes, and 1 could not pass a field sobriety test if his life depended on it.
My doctor was so right about clear liquids giving me more energy. After 4 vodka martinis, I wanted to paint the house.
I’m so out of shape, I bring my phone to the mailbox in case I need an Uber to get back.
I can’t cook dinner if the can opener is broken, so I drove over it a few times just to make sure.
My husband accused me of not being affectionate, so I kissed the FedEx guy.
Don’t you hate it when you’re on your way to join the circus and you accidentally get married and have 3 kids?
Baking powder gets most stains out of carpets and upholstery. Does anybody know how to get baking powder out of carpets and upholstery?
I never feel more productive than when I’m watching cleaning videos.
People obviously have widely different levels of intelligence. There are complicated spy movies that you’re supposed to understand every nuance of without much explanation, but then you pick up an aspirin bottle and the directions say, “Do not put in ear.”
I cleaned the outside of our stainless steel refrigerator, and now we can never touch it again.