Self-loathing Narcassic
Your brains will never wash off our daughter's bedroom walls.
Your brains will never wash off our daughter's bedroom walls.
My giant tattooed husband says to our daughter, "Baby girl, if you bonk your head like that, all the rainbow ponies and fairy dust will fall out of your ears."
My first child was born on Christmas day, just in time for her great great grandfather to see her on his death bed.
Sometimes I forget, but today as I watched my daughter going into the school, she stopped and held the door open for the boy behind her who was in a wheelchair, and I remembered that she’s a pretty darn good kid.
It was just a schizophrenic attack, but it still hurt when he told me he would be ashamed to call me his wife and that his daughter would never come from a whore.
The look on my daughter's face as I turned and left her dorm room that first day will haunt me forever.
After I spilled gasoline on my shoes while topping off my car's tank on the way to lunch, my daughter announced to the cashier at McDonald's, "If you smell gas, it's coming from my mom."
Seeing Wolverine's naked hiney with my mom was surprisingly not awkward.
I hope my teenage daughter appreciates me one day in the future, when she has to deal with my 15 year old granddaughter after refusing to let her go and camp at a 3 day rave full of drunken stoned hippies.
He told me I would have to pay for my own wedding as he was packing for his 3 week cruise through Europe on a chartered yacht.
My bisexual 14-year-old daughter put a middle school teacher in her place when she complained being examined by a female OB/GYN would make her feel "like a queer" with four perfect words: "I AM a queer."
Fear and heartbreak clutched at me as they tightened the handcuffs on my wrists and took my baby girl away - because I'd been responsible enough to bring her to the hospital.
As I woke up from my nap to find written on my feet "This is my momma and you can't have her," I realized that my child is very, very strange.
As I tried to get up from the sofa, my still-sleeping baby girl rolled over, grabbed my shirt with both tiny hands, and would not let go.
My biggest fear is that she will grow up and wish that I had gone through with the adoption.
My %$#$ puppy ate another &$^# cell phone today because my $^ daughter left it out where he could get it.
I fear that people would believe me to be a malingerer, and even my estranged father, upon hearing about the dilemma which my symptoms presented, commented, "I think you're allergic to work."