My daughter learned about Little House on the Prarie from a friend and asked if we could watch an episode. About halfway through she turned to me and asked, “Is that what it was like?” IS THAT WHAT *WHAT* WAS LIKE?!?
😂😂😂
My son won’t let me pack him a snack for school. Snacks are for babies, and he is not a baby. He does, however, love the “supplementary lunch” I’ve been packing in a separate container because his lunch box could not possibly hold enough food for a boy of his size and strength.
😂🍻🍻
🙌🙌
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Legend says that a father drove his daughter to the shoe store, walked straight back to the clearance rack, pointed at the first pair of blue slip-ons he saw, she loved them, and in less than 5 minutes they were back in the car heading for ice cream. It’s me. I’M THE LEGEND!
🤣🙌🙌
It was the best of times, it was the accidentally-pushed-the-elevator-button-before-offering-to-let-your-toddler-push-it of times.
“Thank you for staying for the entirety of this children’s birthday party. As punishment, we’ll be serving pinwheel sandwiches.”
😂😂😂 I’ll keep you posted when the results come back
narrator: and so he handled this box as he did every other--a ticking time bomb patiently awaiting his tender touch. he carefully reached--steady, steady old boy--and grabbed, and moved, and set down, and the bead incident remained but a distant memory. at least for one more day
narrator: some would say he grew from the bead incident, that he was more careful moving forward. aye, it is true. no box would be lifted, no bag would be carried from that day on without a pause of caution. but he knew. he knew that time comes for us all
narrator: she walked in to find him on his knees. her first step drew an audible crunch from the floor. I could tell you, dear reader, that the ensuing conversation lasted hours, or I could tell you that not a word was spoken, but trust that everything that needed to be said was
narrator: there was no need to panic, for he had an hour to make things right, but the minutes began to tick by like seconds, as they tend to do in times of peril. the sound of her key in the door could have woken the dead--ironic, for life as he once knew it was about to end
narrator: from the top shelf a Niagara-worthy torrent of beads rained down. in another time, another place, it would have been beautiful, but he was here, now. no crack was too small, no shag too far for them to call home. he tried to tame them, but those beads had tasted freedom
narrator: he didn't know it then, but what was about to transpire would brand him with a scarlet B for the rest of his days. as he reached to retrieve the bead box--a large and highly organized box of random beads the likes of which few have laid eyes--the unlatched lid slid off
wife: please be careful with that box... you remember the bead incident
narrator: of course he remembered the bead incident. it was may, 2017. he'd decided surprise her by organizing the closet; as fate would have it, it was he who would soon be surprised
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What if I told you that one day in your late 40s you’ll be forced to fast then drink something that makes you violently shit for 24-hours before a group of doctors drug you and shove a camera up your ass and the worst part of the whole experience is the way the drink tastes?
I’m 48 years old and can still chug like I’m in college. It’s two bottles of colonoscopy prep solution now, but still, impressive.
It’s the salesmen trying to sell you solar, siding…
And before he left Home Depot, he will have denied being a homeowner three times.
My son got this balloon on Valentine's Day. He accidentally let go & it floated to the ceiling. Days later it was still up there. I said, "be patient, it will come down" but he didn't believe me. "If it comes down I get an iPad!" he said. I agreed. Then I glued it to the ceiling.
I am not suicidal. I eat healthy food. I just got new brakes on my car. I’m a strong swimmer. I don’t do drugs. My wife overcooks her broccoli.
It’s so liberating when your kids reach an age where they can perform some stupid trick and ask, “pretty cool, right?” and you can say, “not really, no.”
daughter: the doctor said my vision is perfect!
wife: you get that from me
son: the doctor said I grew an inch!
wife: you get that from your da—
me: NO!
Early contender for Father of the Year.
professor x: what's your power?
me: deflection
professor x: bullets? gamma rays?
me: criticism
professor x: that’s a stupi—
me: say, is that a new tie?
me: *whispering in son's ear*
son: MOM, CAN WE HAVE PIZZA FOR DINNER?!?!?!
me: Oh, jeez! Pizza again??? Well, I guess he did do well on his math test...
