As I stepped out of the shower, I heard someone in my kitchen downstairs. Knowing that my wife was out, I grabbed my 1903 heirloom rifle—which no longer works—and crept downstairs, forgetting the fact that I was in my birthday suit.
I came around the corner with the gun raised, only to find my wife loading the dishwasher. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I thought I heard an intruder. I came down to scare him.”
Scanning the contours of my doughy, naked body, she mumbled, “You didn’t need the gun.”
I discussed peer pressure and cigarettes with my 12-year-old daughter. Having struggled for years to quit, I described how I had started smoking to “be cool”.
As I outlined the arguments kids might make to tempt her to try it, she stopped me mid-lecture, saying, “Hey, I’ll just tell them my mom smokes. How cool can it be?”
Texting acronyms can stump even the best of moms:
Mom: Your great-aunt just passed away. LOL.
Son: Why is that funny?
Mom: It’s not funny, David! What do you mean?
Son: Mom, LOL means Laughing Out Loud.
Mom: I thought it meant Lots of Love. I have to call everyone back.
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Daughter: I got an A in Chemistry.
Daughter: Mom, what do you think WTF means?
Mom: Well That’s Fantastic.
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Mom: What do IDK, LY & TTYL mean?
Son: I don’t know, love you, talk to you later.
Mom: Okay, I will ask your sister.