@daddydoubts: Son: daddy what happens to our poopy when we flush it?
Me: our poopy collects in what’s called a septic tank where it forms with all our other poopies to become one giant poopy monster waiting on our command to rise and destroy all our enemies.
Wife: okay no.
@daddydoubts: The year is 2073. My wife and I rest in side by side burial plots. Waking up in the middle of the night our 57yo son, for reasons beyond his understanding, digs a horizontal hole between us and gets in.
His head near his mother and his feet kicking my corpse, he sleeps.
@daddydoubts: Death: your time has come.
Me: no! not now!
Death: yes now.
Me: but... I have to poop?
Death: ......damn it. Go on then.
Me: wow that actually worked.
My toddler: *nods sagely*
@daddydoubts: My 2yo held my face in his hands and whispered oh-so seriously: “don’t go to work daddy, stay with me.”
And so, I am never going to work again.
@daddydoubts: Me: lol this guy is drunk after only two beers.
Wife: stop giving our toddler beer.
@daddydoubts: We had to cut our 2yo off from YouTube. Like any addict, he hasn’t responded well to going cold turkey but his irises aren’t red anymore so that’s good news.
@daddydoubts: 2yo: daddy play with me!
2yo: *points* sit right here.
2yo: NO DADDY DON’T SIT THERE!
2yo: DON’T SAY OKAY!
@daddydoubts: Toddlers are fun because every so often they‘ll agree with almost anything you say.
Me: we’re going out tonight okay?
Me: we’re gonna get into some trouble.
Me: start a revolution.
Me: Then we’ll go to bed.
@daddydoubts: Friend: Hey man I haven’t seen you since you had a baby. How’s parenthood?
Me: Up at dawn. Milk. Survive. Distract. Feed. Milk. Distract. Physical activity. Feed. Milk. Asleep at sundown.
Friend: Hahaha sounds like farming.
Me: That’s right. Parents are kid farmers.