These are my kids, Jack and Katie. Pretty fucking cute, aren’t they? When I die, I want “She made cute babies” on my tombstone.
But here’s the thing with cute kids. They make it really, really hard to enforce any kind of discipline because they push your buttons to the point of needing anger management and/or more Xanax, and then turn around and give you the big Puss ‘n Boots eyes, say “I wuv you, mommy!” and suddenly you’re an embarrassing, sobby mess of kid hugs and they’re getting away with eating ice cream and waffles for dinner again.
They are pretty awesome when they’re not being not awesome, though.
40 is the New F Word 