🎆 New Year's Eve
Lil Johnny👦: "Every year the same, people always have to start banging before midnight!"
Mom👱🏻♀️: "Johnny, would you please leave the bedroom now?"
Dad👨🏻🦰: "Son, if you don't leave, it'll bang on your head!"
You're so ugly whenever you say hi, people walk away and say that you were too ugly, and they go take a bath right away because you're so stinky.
They say that you look like your mama. Wait, your mama must be just like you because I can see her way from a mile!
You say you put on perfume, but every time I smell you, you smell like poo-poo. You're so ugly that when your mom looks in the mirror, you cry. You're so stupid the second-grade teacher had to tell you to go all the way to kindergarten. Head Start is every grade below you. You can't even go to the 20th grade, which stands for 9th grade. You can't even go to grocery stores, and people that tell you that you're so ugly give you compliments just to make you feel better. You know that everybody just likes you just because they just don't want to hurt your feelings, so just stay in your mind. Hey, you want to text Matt; you know it was you because every time you see you, you think that you matter. Matter fact, he doesn't even like you; he just wants your money girl. Who even likes you? 😈😈
For some reason, when my mom eats hot dogs, she likes to lick and suck on it first. As a son, can anyone tell me why?
This category is messed up.
My Mom died in 9/11, at least she was doing what she loved, flying planes.
The only woman to ever tell you that they loved you was your mom. (If she even loved you in the first place.)
At weddings my mom always tells me I’m next. So I say the same to her, at funerals.
Ms. Katie: I heard about a Vegan baby.
Mom: Here’s your Happy Meal.
Ms. Katie: That’s not vegan, did you trick me?
Kids: Yeah!
Ms. Katie: That’s it, little baby Jimmy, I’m giving you shaking baby syndrome!
Mom: Please don’t hurt my son.
*Ms. Katie shakes Jimmy*
Mom: I’m secretly a cop, and you are arrested.
Me: Mom, should I kill the main character in the book I'm writing to make things more interesting?
Mom: Sure, honey! What type of book are you writing?
Me: It's an autobiography.
Knock, knock.
You suck my iron with you and mommy.