{Gas}
Mr. BUB: I think Skeeter has gas. You should probably get her drops.
Me: Oh yeah?
Mr. BUB: (passes gas)
Me: OH my gosh, that’s awful!
Mr. BUB: You may need to change her diaper.
Me: Did you seriously just pass gas and blame it on your child?
Mr. BUB: Why do you say ‘pass gas’? Why don’t you say ‘fart’?
Me: I don’t like that word.
Mr. BUB: Do you have PFSD? It’s like PTSD, but Post Fart Stress Disorder.
{Playing COD}
Mr. BUB: I guess my microphone is broken. I’m saying awesome shit and no one is saying anything.
{Returning to Work/Ugly Cry}
Me: Fair warning- I’m going to be weepy tonight.
Mr. BUB: Don’t show Skeeter your crying face. She doesn’t need that trauma this early in life.
Me: Fair warning- I’m going to be weepy tonight.
Mr. BUB: Don’t show Skeeter your crying face. She doesn’t need that trauma this early in life.
{Mr. BUB’s Guilty Pleasure}
Mr. BUB: I will not be shamed by this. I love Cher.
Mr. BUB: I will not be shamed by this. I love Cher.
Sidenote: There will be more about Mr. BUB’s guilty pleasure next week. And believe me, it’ll be worth reading.
