WTF=Within the Family

And it stays WTF. At least until I think it is funny enough to post on my blog:

  • I love how my husband yells STOP IT from three rooms away when I play my phone game with the constant ping, ping, ping noises.
  • My husband was taking his truck in for service. He had to take it through the car wash first because it had been sitting outside for awhile. So I told him, “You wash your truck just like us ladies wash before we go see our vagina doctor.” He just doesn’t appreciate a good analogy when he hears one.

My son sent me a pic of his room. When I received it, I asked what the decoration was on the wall. It looked like some kind of octopus theme. He told me: “Mom, that’s my hair.”

  • My husband yells at me from the back porch, so excited I thought he was either in pain or won the lottery. When I rushed out he said: “It is 70 degrees out with snow on the ground. I am never going to see this again.” He may want to hold that thought. Winters are just weird now.
  • My husband asked me to call the local bank and see if they had a notary. I looked online and tried to find my little neighborhood bank that stays open until 7 pm for me. I kept on getting routed to this main phone. So I sat on hold. The little phone voice said ‘You’re wait is 14 minutes.” My husband comes in and asks if I found out yet. I told him I was on hold. He then proceeded to tell me that he had already spoken to Leigh Ann and she would be happy to notarize my letter. I just can’t be mad anymore. This pretty much sums up my husband.
  • I had to promise that I would NEVER EVER EVER drink milk out of my husband’s favorite beer glass again.
  • When I came home with dinner from Taco Bell, McDonald’s and Jimmy Johns I told my husband he owed me $50 bucks for the “Door Dash.” He straight up looked at me and said, “Honey, you have not dashed in years.”

  • Yep, this is me. I will only eat the top of the cinnamon bread and once I run out of icing, I am done.

One response to “WTF=Within the Family

  1. This was really funny.

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