My son almost missed his plane because he thought his seat number was the gate number.
The same kid they said was *gifted* when he was four.
I presented pragmatic, irrefutable facts and felt confident I made my case, but my dog would have none of it.
I’ve slept with my hands covering my neck to ward off vampires since I was a child and you know what? It works.
My sunglasses are always prescription so if they’re stolen, it becomes two idiots who can’t see.
There’s a fire burning in my heart, no wait, it’s acid reflux, carry on.
My new rescue dog has figured out how to step on the pedal and open the trash can.
I don’t think my children ever learned that.
I did errands without my phone and it took 6 days, 17 hours and 59 minutes less time.
“We no longer use straws,” he said, handing me two plastic bottles of water. “They’re bad for the environment.”
People who race to pull out in front of me and then go below the speed limit, explain yourselves.
How many towels can your young adult son use when he visits? All of them. Even ones you’ve forgotten you own.