My husband sent me a text that said…I love you, but have something gross to tell you. I can tell it’s going to be terribly romantic.
My son played a song in the car and I actually liked it. Hell has frozen over.
My eye keeps twitching. I’m no doctor, but I feel like eating a large quantity of bread and cheese will probably cure it.
Don’t touch the door handles
Don’t touch the light switches
Don’t touch the bedspread
Don’t touch the remote control-me, in this hotel room
Put granola in your yogurt, because who doesn’t like eating tiny rocks on purpose?
My pantry would give that guy from Sleeping with the Enemy a heart attack.
I’m more than willing to test out that whole “money can’t buy happiness” thing.
My husband asked me to do something creative in the bedroom, so I positioned my three dogs in the shape of a heart and went to sleep.
Son: We’re having chicken and rice for dinner?
Me: No. That’s for the dogs. Heat up some pizza rolls or something.
I don’t even bother moving when my Fitbit is charging. There’s no point.
High heels are beautiful and sexy until you wear them for 5 minutes and want to throw them against a wall.
I spent over $200 at the grocery store yesterday which means there will be no food in my house by tomorrow.
My husband said let’s cuddle, so he took one dog and I took the other two, and we cuddled.
There is a natural phenomenon going on in my house. It seems I’m the only one who sees the trash piling up. It’s quite astounding.
Congratulations to everyone who woke up with all of their fingers and toes.