…until I had dogs.
- THOR! STOP humping your brother!
- Who peed on the bathroom floor?
- Dude…it’s a buttless, headless monkey (much beloved/abused stuffed animal)…gross.
- Chewy, I know you have to eviscerate stuffed animals, but do you HAVE to get the guts all over the floor?
- Chewy, seriously, poop THEN wander around. You look retarded.
- DON’T STEP IN IT!! GODDAMMIT!!!
- NO HUMPING!
- Thunder is not the sky barking at you. Shut up.
- That leaf is not out to get you. Shut up.
- No, you can’t rip that squirrel apart. Stay in the house.
- Oh my god, stop bitching. Your bath isn’t that bad.
- Don’t sniff (insert any guest’s name here)’s crotch!
- Seriously, go wipe your mouth, you ishy drool machine.
- NOT ON MY LEG!!
- What the hell?? Who peed on the kitchen floor?? What’s WRONG with you?
- Dude…I wouldn’t do that. He’s gonna bite your face off. (To Chewy while he’s tormenting Thor).
- Sigh. Told you so. Come here, let’s see if you still have both eyes. (To Chewy, after Thor lost his temper).
- Belly rubs!
- Don’t swallow that plastic/fuzz/paper/shoe!
- Stop licking your feet!
- Put your head out the window and shush (to Thor, in the car)
- Thor, why do you rip the ears off of every chew toy?
- Get off my foot, you fat cow.
- Oh dear, what have you done? (This is anytime I come home to two cowering, remorseful, hiding dogs instead of wagging-happy dogs).
- Don’t eat barf!
- Did you DROOL in my shoe? You bastard!
- DROP THAT SOCK!
- Aww, snuggle-puppy
UPDATED: My husband commented on Facebook (NOT my blog: bad form dude, bad form) with the following:
You forgot “stop licking your brothers junk” and “no you can’t have the bottle yet, it’s not empty”.
Touche Sir, I indeed forgot those two. Along the same lines: “put that away, nobody wants to see your junk.”