I think it depends very much on the children in question.

I will be in possession of an 11 year old girl next summer, so I might as well pencil this in for opening weekend and bring many, many tissues to cry into.

Oh aye. Breakfast is good.

"snuggle more!" "I'm supposed to read for 25 minutes" "don't go!" "I need more water!" " there's a spider behind my bed" on and on! yeah my girl's bedtime is 8:30 but I'm not really done until 9:30.

Okey doke, I'll just head down to the husband store and pick one up. Because we all have a line of suitors who want to marry, love and protect us from other men.

To be fair to Anna Paquin, the book Sookie is a pretty shallow, not-terribly-bright, vapid waste of suntan lotion. I would imagine it would be hard to develop a character when the source material basically has no there there.

Because I have this elaborate plot worked out in my head where Bill dies in an awesome True-Blood-style death scene, Alcide embarks on a lifequest to finally learn how to read and write, and then Eric rejects Sookie in the most brutally awesome way and she's left all alone forever and ever as punishment for being one…

Great, now I'll never get that The Divinyls' song out of my head...

*passes tequila bottle* I know. It's OK. I know.

You cannot hit them on a bike. You cannot hit a man named Mike. You cannot hit them in the mouth. You cannot hit them in the South. You cannot hit them on the nose. And cannot step on all their toes. You cannot hit them with a box. You cannot hit them with a fox. You cannot hit them here and there. You cannot hit them…

I've long ago learned to love my small B-cup size. Big ones are lovely to look at, but I like wearing any shirt I want. I've got the booty to make up for it though, my issue is finding the right fit of pants.

Or, "Please don't be fat. Please don't be fat."

Sometimes when I see headlines...in my head I say, "Please don't be black. Please don't be black"...and when they're black...I'm overwhelmed with WTF'ness.

Oh, boy. Um. This isn't about me. This is about someone I was (and still am) with.

I am starring every comment on here that talks about how shitty and cliched this looks meanwhile I know FOR A FACT I will see this and cry like an asshole. I am at war with myself.

Great, now I want to have sex and then eat nachos. There goes all my productivity fire the day.

Kelly, your post is incomplete without this.

Imma let you finish, but they need to cast Heather Headley. Watch this video and try to tell me otherwise.