I despise this phrase. I HATE this phrase. I am disgusted by this phrase.
For those that don't know - FML, stands for F* My Life.
What I think is even worse than the term FML is the USE of the term FML.
I need gas. FML.
Babysitter didn't show up. FML.
Working 6 days this week. FML.
My period started. FML.
Really, F* Your Life? A little over dramatic, don't ya think? However, this morning - in my early dawn crabbiness, I actually found a few needs for FML.
My 2 year old fed my 1 year old fish food and now he's breaking out into a rash. FML.
My 1 year old learned how to open the fridge and empty out the entire inside door of condiments. FML.
I just found out I needed glasses and can barely write this post. FML.
I'm pretty sure that by the way my almost 3 year old rolls her eyes, that she is possessed by demons. FML.
The threat, "Wait Till Daddy Gets Home!" has no effect in this house. FML.
My lab sharts in his sleep. SHARTS! FML.
Someone threw a non-rinsed poopy diaper into my load of clean cloth diapers (and sadly it is very possible I did it and can't remember). FML.
I'm pretty sure my 1 year old has learned that sticking his finger in the light sockets feels good. FML.
When praying, Georgia turns "Amen," into "Demon," and laughs. FML.
I'm certain that if Houston found poop in the toilet, he would play with it. FML.
A day without a bruise just doesn't cut it around here. FML.
My morbidly obese lazy cat prefers using our brand new green grass as his litter box. Gotta love amonia killed yellow grass. FML.
I'm going to the San Diego County Fair tomorrow and I'm pretty sure this year I will have to split my corn dog 3 ways. FML.
I kid! I kid! FML for nothing!!!! But really, can we stop over dramatizing the use of the term and move onto something better. Holy Cow! Crikey! Jiminy Crickets! Ugh! Gosh Dang it!
You get the idea.
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