Went to WalMart today and still had all my kids when I got home. Next week, I’ll try harder.
You guys, I seriously never ask for prayers but this is an emergency. There is a rumor that Red Lobster might be closing. Pray. Pray hard.
I’ll give up my thesaurus when you pry it from my frigid, frosty, frozen, cadaverous, lifeless, stiff, defunct extremities.
The worst walk of shame is the one back onto the crowded elevator after getting out on the wrong floor.
I hope my husband never gets Alzheimer’s but if he does, I imagine my favorite part will be saying “I gave you one yesterday.”
Siri, make me pancakes.
You have a Blackberry, Linda. Go home, Linda, you’re drunk.
Well, sure, if I was a 22 year old hottie I’d tweet sexy stuff, but I’m a 47 year old married woman with 5 kids. I tweet despair.
How to eat French fries:
1) Eat all the good ones.
2) Leave the yucky ones and feel superior.
3) Wait 5 minutes.
4) Eat all the yucky ones.
My kid is almost old enough for social media so we’ll need to have “the talk” soon. You know, about your/you’re and their/there/they’re.