As the parent of a 5yo boy, I can name all the dinosaurs and none of my coworkers.
Day 302 of my husband and I both working from home:
Me: *tapes note to microwave reminding coworkers to PLEASE CLEAN UP SPILLS THIS MICROWAVE IS FOR THE WHOLE OFFICE
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?” isn’t supposed to be a challenge.
“And there was this one time…”
*scuffle scuffle*
*muffled swearing*
*mic drops*Me, giving a wedding toast
Me: I absolutely cannot take a cop in shorts seriously.
Him: Sorry ma’am but I’m still going to have to ask you to come with me.
Me: Haha OK
I feel like people who end up on Dateline for committing murder don’t watch enough Dateline to plan their crimes accordingly.
Becoming a parent changes your whole life.
One change I was not expecting was that whenever I sit down, I release a hormone only my child can detect that causes him to ask me for something.
“Hi. Remember me?”
“Uh… yeah.”
“Remember we talked about you leaving the birdseed on the ground?”
“Uh…”
“Because I remember.”
“It’s cool. We’re cool. I can fix it right now.”
“I wouldn’t want to have to remind you again. That might be bad for you.”
*out for dinner with friends*
Me: I’m going to need 5 desserts and 1 spoon.
Waiter: Don’t you mean 1 dessert and 5 spoons?
Me: You heard me.
I’m so inactive, my Fitbit sent my family a bouquet of flowers and a sympathy card.
And just then, Frodo realized he’d forgotten to charge his Fitbit before leaving The Shire.
I gave a yelp review once.
In my defense, it was my first bikini wax.
A colleague suggested I clone myself so I can take on more work, but I don’t think it’s fair to ask my husband to put up with any more of me.
There is no greater lie than “if you tell the truth, I won’t get mad.”
Currently trying to estimate how many steps I lost searching the house to find my Fitbit.