Catherine told me she has a 2:30 chiropractor appointment tomorrow.
I said, “I didn’t know he worked on teeth?”
She said, “What are you talking about?”
I said, “You said your tooth hurty.”
She said nothing and left the room.
I’m left wondering if she understood the joke.
I feel sorry for Netflix era kids. They will never know the high stakes adrenaline of running to the bathroom/fridge/bedroom in a single ad break, with the beckoning call of a sibling screaming “It’s ONNNNNN” to send you hurdling over furniture to get back in time.
If you’re wondering where I get my dumb sense of humor from, my dad suggested we name our second son Samuel too so we would could have a First Samuel and a Second Samuel.
That’s just good, clean biblical humor.
I know we’re all worried about The Bachelor and all but I have much bigger, real world concerns. My kid didn’t want to eat a cinnamon roll this morning. A CINNAMON ROLL. Son... what son?