I know! An airport chili dog!” – me, 15 minutes ago, announcing my worst idea ever.
At my last supper before departing for a business trip, I explained to my kids that 1 would deny me, 1 would betray me & 1 would get snot all over my sports coat as I walked out the door.
Boning up on German vocabulary. So far I can say “this sausage sucks” & “will you attend toilet school?” Must learn German word for ennui.
Nothing says “don’t read this email from your mom” like ALL CAPS and 3 exclamation points in the subject line.
No, it’s cool. I mean, I was gonna drink that tea but it works as a place to put your watercolor paint brush too.
Well, we’d like a table for 6, but the truth is that at least 2 of these kids are just gonna end up in my lap anyway.
Growing up watching 70s movies, I kinda thought there’d be more occasions to have your car doors ripped off.
On the 6th day, He applied a Sharpie to a host of balloons that they might bear amusing faces & shut his kids up & He saw that it was good.
I’ll be productively working when I suddenly remember that queso exists, and that I know where to find it, and then there goes my week.
If you give me a dress code for your event, I’ll still wear what I want, but when our eyes meet, mine will have that “I blew you off” gleam.
With a wife named Erin & a boss named Eric, I’m always one letter away from a sexting disaster.
I don’t ask for much. I just want a glass of wine, a comfy chair, and a former or prospective lover to challenge my wife to a duel over me.
Both this sentence & I are self-referential, marginally clever, and possessed with ultimately unrealized potential.
Is there a job where you get paid to judge people’s lives based on brief, superficial observations? Because doing it for free is getting old.
Today I let my kids take some balloons in the shower with them and suddenly, just like magic, I had something brand new to hate.
I yelled to my son that his friend was at the door. He said “tell him I’m not home!” I looked to the kid. In the distance, a train sounded.
At the future kindergarten’s open house, hot moms witnessed me use my finger to wipe toddler’s snot & deposit it onto my sock – like a boss.
Today I’ve been smacked, bitten, menaced w/ a knife & pelted w/ food – having a toddler is like having a psycho girlfriend w/o the crazy sex.
The 1st step in slaying a dragon is to realize that the dragon is you. The 2nd step? I dunno, because being a dragon is freaking awesome!
This being happy all the time stuff is really getting in the way of the cranky vibe I’m trying to project.
I spent my morning wiping butts, breaking up fights & cooking pancakes that I didn’t get to eat. So, you know, dreams do come true.
As much as I want to be the hero, the truth is that in the movie of life, I’m probably the character played by James Spader.
I still haven’t been to the grocery yet kids, so . . . who wants mustard toast?
Me, all day long: “This watching what I eat stuff is a breeze”. Me, at 10:30PM: “Cower before Galactus, Eater of Worlds!”
Every time I have to switch back to Internet Explorer to do something work related, some part of me dies.
Just once it would be nice to talk to my wife without someone bleeding or crapping themselves or hitting me with a Captain America shield.
Whenever my toddler hugs me, most of me is delighted, but a small part of me fears that he’s gonna bite my crotch.
Neighbor kid slept over last night & appeared at my bedside at 6AM this morning – will use experience as basis for horror film screenplay.
When cornered by inane conversation at a party, I nod politely & imagine cute monkeys that are also cornered by inane conversation.
Tonight the part of fussy lawyer at a doctor party will be reprised by Mike Hamilton, known for his roles as jerk at Starbucks & drunk moron.
Do these yoga pants make my vagina look big?