I’m having trouble being mad at my 8 y.o., whose teacher let me know that while he was supposed to be taking a standardized reading test he was on Google reviewing The Peanuts Movie.
ME: Diligently sanitizing countertops, faucets, door knobs, light switches, remote controls, phones, hands,
ALSO ME: Eating a piece of a Kit Kat I dropped on the floor because wasting chocolate? In these times?
“Daddy’s not home, so for dinner we’re having a smorgasbord!” I tell the kids, using the Swedish word for chicken nuggets and Benadryl.
My husband got me Alexa for Christmas, like I need another person in the house claiming they didn’t hear me.
[pulling out of the driveway on the way to a holiday party]
HUSBAND: Oh, we’re supposed to bring a dessert.
My personal style is best described as “didn’t expect to get out of the car.”
I like to send little notes in my kid’s lunchbox, like “Sorry the Wheat Thins are stale, that’s what happens when you leave the box open.”
Your loss, middle school cheerleading squad. Turns out I’m really good at yelling at people.
HER: Did you see the lunar eclipse?
ME: I would miss Jesus Christ himself returning in a cloud of flames if it happened before 7 a.m.
“Adults are lame. After they have kids, they never do anything exciting.”
-my son, blaming the victims