A son tells his father, “I have an imaginary girlfriend.” The father sighs and says, “You know, you could do better.” “Thanks Dad,” the son says. “That means a lot.” The father shakes his head and goes, “I was talking to your girlfriend.”
Yesterday, I was washing the car with my son. He said, “Dad, can’t you just use a sponge?”
My dad died because he couldn’t remember his blood type. He kept insisting we “be positive,” but it’s just so hard without him.
