Haven’t done this in a bit, because I honestly could not think of anything funny. Then, I remembered that I terrorize my children constantly, and it’s kind of funny.
My kids are obsessed with Shinedown. They listen to them every day without fail. I did not know this, but apparently, my oldest gets rather offended when I purposely mess up lyrics. Personally, I think it’s weird, because they also love Weird Al, but I guess they just can’t appreciate my personal genius…
Breaking Inside is one of their favorites by Shinedown. If you don’t know it, it just goes “because I feel like I’m breaking insiiiiiiideeeee”
They’ve listened to this song every day for weeks. So, I started loudly singing “I feel like I’m baking a pieeeeeeeeeeeee”
Lock: “MOM! It’s breaking inside, you KNOW that!”
Me: Oh, sorry… I FEEL LIKE I’M BAKING A PIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Lock: MOM! Seriously, you are ruining the song.
Me: How? I’m just trying to get out my feelings AAAAAAAABOOOOOOOOOUT PIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Lock: MOM!!! Come on!
Me: WOULD YOU LIKE AN AAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPLEEEE PIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?
Lock: I give up.
Me: YOU ARE THE APPLE OF MY EYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Lock: ……
My daughter has been obsessed with getting milkshakes lately. I don’t necessarily have a problem with that, except that I drink them too. Sometimes, we do milkshakes for good behavior because I am NOT above bribery (or excuses to stop at my favorite upscale gas station…) Anyway, she was drinking her milkshake, and I told her I had the perfect song for her. I played Milkshake, because, I’m not a good mom, or I am. I don’t know, maybe I’m raising the first Nobel Peace Prize winning stripper. Anyway, I’m dancing and singing it to her, and she is staring at me with a look of complete confusion.
Me: “What, aren’t you digging these sick beats? Doesn’t your milkshake bring all the boys to the yard?”
Shock: “really?”
Me: “What?! It’s a great song! I could teach you, but I’d have to charge!”
Shock: “You are so weird, but I still love you.”
The family that shakes milk together, stays together, as my mother did not always say.
My youngest was throwing a tantrum, and told me that he was going to live at the creek.
Barrel: “That’s IT Mom, I’m done. I’m going to live at the creek. I’m moving out. I’m serious, I’m living at the creek now. You are going to have to bring me my food and everything.”
Me: “I do not negotiate with tiny terrorists.”
Barrel: ……..
ANNNND we will close with this:
On Saturday, I did what all the super cool and with it 30 somethings do. My friend and I drove 45 minutes away to the closest Cinnabon, which is at a rest stop. I was kind of supposed to have a date type thing with a guy, and I somehow ended up eating gooey buns. In my defense, I hadn’t heard from him all day, and I have a thing for hot buns. They’re just covered in icing, not flesh.
Naturally, as I get in the car, and I get a text. I say to my friend, kind of frantically,
Me: Okay, what the fuck do I do here? I cannot admit to any other human being that I’m fucking going to Cinnabon to stuff my face on a Saturday night!
Her: I think it’s cool that we’re going to Cinnabon. How could you be ashamed of us?
Me: Oh, no problem. I’ll just text back and say oh hey, sorry I’m blowing you off, but I had a long day of lying around and I need to reward myself with buttered, fatty goodness?
Her: Well you don’t have to tell him you did nothing all day…
Me: Oh, so that’s where I draw the line for honesty? I have to admit my bun fetish, but not my laziness?
A little while later…
Me: So…you know, we literally get on the turnpike and off at the same spot. Do you think someone looks at that and just says did these chicks just bust a fucking U Turn or something? How do you do that?
When we leave, we always go the wrong way and end up in the Poconos…
Me: Okay, you have to stay to the left of Sunoco.
We couldn’t figure out how to get to the right exit spot, we circled the parking lot, feeling dumb…and she turns right
Me: Oh my god, you just … fucking… you pretty much just went fuck this, I’m going to the Poconos. Like…you couldn’t just hang for a second so we could think about this, nope, you didn’t want a trucker judging us, so you took us north.
Mah Butt Itches 
Rock on!
LikeLike