I feel like I just woke up, even though I have been going since about 7 am this morning. My children are, momentarily, contained in the playroom. The cat, once again making me question how smart she actually is, has buried herself under the covers of our bed and shows no sign of leaving. I am ready to flop down on the floor, but instead I pour myself more coffee in hopes it will revive me. So I will again take this moment to share my brain bugs, only I no longer have the excuse of having just rolled out of bed.
I sometimes wonder if a lack of opposable thumbs is the only things stopping pets from revolting.
We are using ice cream as a potty training reward. Will my daughter forever connect ice cream with poop?
I need to stop making inappropriate versions of the songs on kid’s shows.
I want the power to teleport like Nightcrawler, complete with the “BAMF” and brimstone.
Can a person actually feel themselves getting old or is that just gas?
Ben Franklin and Chris Hardwick are right. Our national bird should have been the turkey.
I can’t change how my brain works. I can just learn how to deal with it better.
Expiration dates have wiggle room, but not in years.
No one tells you that being married gives you someone who thinks it’s funny to fart on you.
The above also applies to children.
This is as far as I can go. I’m starting to over think this too much and my girls are demanding “Yo Gabba Gabba” for the second time. Also, all this coffee is making me have to pee.