Henpecked Hal

*takes popcorn off stove*

M’bad.

I’ll let you know in an hour.

*starts playing on phone during a show

*misses important scene

*rewinds way too far by mistake

*gets back on phone while waiting for the scene

*misses the scene again

I was explaining to my kids about inflation (no one enjoyed the conversation, not even me) and I told them that I used to buy hamburgers from this one place near my high school for 29 cents. “32 cents after tax,” I said. I have become my own grandfather.

You can say "please" and "thank you" a million times and your toddler will never repeat it, but if you say "ass-faced mother fucker" ONCE...

When I woke up today I never imagined that I’d soon be a single dad, that I’d be raising 2 young kids all alone, but that was before my wife made plans to go walk with a friend, before she put on a tank top, before my kids told her that she “isn’t young enough to wear that shirt”

🤣

My daughter learned about Little House on the Prarie from a friend and asked if we could watch an episode. About halfway through she turned to me and asked, “Is that what it was like?” IS THAT WHAT *WHAT* WAS LIKE?!?

😂😂😂

My son won’t let me pack him a snack for school. Snacks are for babies, and he is not a baby. He does, however, love the “supplementary lunch” I’ve been packing in a separate container because his lunch box could not possibly hold enough food for a boy of his size and strength.

😂🍻🍻

🙌🙌

😂

Legend says that a father drove his daughter to the shoe store, walked straight back to the clearance rack, pointed at the first pair of blue slip-ons he saw, she loved them, and in less than 5 minutes they were back in the car heading for ice cream. It’s me. I’M THE LEGEND!

🤣🙌🙌

It was the best of times, it was the accidentally-pushed-the-elevator-button-before-offering-to-let-your-toddler-push-it of times.

“Thank you for staying for the entirety of this children’s birthday party. As punishment, we’ll be serving pinwheel sandwiches.”

😂😂😂 I’ll keep you posted when the results come back

narrator: and so he handled this box as he did every other--a ticking time bomb patiently awaiting his tender touch. he carefully reached--steady, steady old boy--and grabbed, and moved, and set down, and the bead incident remained but a distant memory. at least for one more day

narrator: some would say he grew from the bead incident, that he was more careful moving forward. aye, it is true. no box would be lifted, no bag would be carried from that day on without a pause of caution. but he knew. he knew that time comes for us all

narrator: she walked in to find him on his knees. her first step drew an audible crunch from the floor. I could tell you, dear reader, that the ensuing conversation lasted hours, or I could tell you that not a word was spoken, but trust that everything that needed to be said was

narrator: there was no need to panic, for he had an hour to make things right, but the minutes began to tick by like seconds, as they tend to do in times of peril. the sound of her key in the door could have woken the dead--ironic, for life as he once knew it was about to end

narrator: from the top shelf a Niagara-worthy torrent of beads rained down. in another time, another place, it would have been beautiful, but he was here, now. no crack was too small, no shag too far for them to call home. he tried to tame them, but those beads had tasted freedom

narrator: he didn't know it then, but what was about to transpire would brand him with a scarlet B for the rest of his days. as he reached to retrieve the bead box--a large and highly organized box of random beads the likes of which few have laid eyes--the unlatched lid slid off

wife: please be careful with that box... you remember the bead incident

narrator: of course he remembered the bead incident. it was may, 2017. he'd decided surprise her by organizing the closet; as fate would have it, it was he who would soon be surprised

🍻🍻🍻

What if I told you that one day in your late 40s you’ll be forced to fast then drink something that makes you violently shit for 24-hours before a group of doctors drug you and shove a camera up your ass and the worst part of the whole experience is the way the drink tastes?

I’m 48 years old and can still chug like I’m in college. It’s two bottles of colonoscopy prep solution now, but still, impressive.

It’s the salesmen trying to sell you solar, siding…