My sixteen year old doesn’t know how to “work” a fold top sandwich bag.
I now return you to your regularly scheduled Friday night.
You’re my favorite person to yell at in all caps.
My daughter’s school is selling apples for their band.
If I want to buy a bag of apples for 400 bucks I’ll go to Whole Foods.
16: Our teachers won’t let us charge our phones. Even if we’re on 1%. It’s not safe.
Me: Nobody even put me in a car seat.
My daughter found something on her own.
Am I done? Is she raised now?
Foxes are just dogs made out of cats.
Once again I’ve managed to poke myself in the eye with my own finger like my eyes have not been in the same goddamn spot for forty five goddamn years.
My mom just text me she made hash browns out of cauliflower.
How do we dissolve her parental rights?
My dogs: Get up and feed us.
Me: It’s Saturday. We don’t need to be up yet.
My dogs: Don’t make us get the cat…
My daughter just found the iron in the laundry room and asked “What is this? Some kind of olden days coffee pot?”
When do I get to go to heaven?