Husband: Can these gel packs go in the microwave?
Me: Absolutely.
*gel pack explodes*
Me: Why would you listen to me? I can’t put my pants on without falling over.
*whistling*
Husband: There’s blood in the entry way. What happened?
Me: I’m decorating for Halloween.
Husband: But It’s real blood.
Me: *continues whistling*
[pre-op]
Me: In just a few minutes we’ll administer your euthanasia.
Patient: Don’t you mean anesthesia?
Me: Sure. Whatever.
Brother: The holidays are coming up fast. Are you excited?
Me: Of course I’m excited. *prepays 25 therapy sessions*
Husband: You have a chip on your shoulder.
Me: You know that’s untrue because I would have already eaten it.
Husband: Should we hit the gym today?
Me: *drawing pumpkin eyes with a Sharpie on my stomach* What?
*wears something low cut to my colonoscopy*
Son: Mom loves me the most.
Daughter: No, she loves me most.
Me: Kids, please stop. I really don’t like either one of you.
Welcome to middle age.
Don’t bother looking at the weather forecast; your joints will let you know when it’s going to rain.
Me: The dog gives me more attention because he loves me the most.
Husband: No, it’s because you’re constantly dropping food on the floor.
What’s the 5 second rule when you drop a baby on the floor?
I like to play this game called “How busy I can I pretend to look when my boss walks by my desk.”
Husband: Do you want to go for a run today?
Me: *drawing a giant pumpkin on my stomach* Nah, I’m good.
Me: Don’t forget we’re wearing matching costumes for Halloween.
Husband: Great! What should we be?
Me: I meant me and the dog.
Husband: Of course you did.
Guilt should be a condiment. It goes on everything.