Is there a reason to perform cpr on a unconscious od with agonal respirations (pulse >120, RR 8, thorax is moving synchronous to breathing). His respirations were only Gasps with 7 sec no breathing then gasping again (therefore agonal).

It is said that agonal breathing is prior to Respiratory arrest, thus cpr should be considered. But he has no circulation problem so why cpr? BVM makes sense but cpr seems overkill. What is ur experience about that?

During an MCI you find a patient with agonal breathing. You re-position the airway, but breathing doesn't improve; still agonal.

Does this patient get a red or black tag?

I know technically they have spontaneous breathing (red tag), however I was taught to treat agonal breathing as no breathing when attempting resuscitation, e.g., during cardiac arrest. If agonal breathing is as good as no breathing, would they get a black tag?

So call came for a fall with altered mental status. Get on scene late 60 male laying on grass smelling of booze. Construction workers found him and said he was talking talking them but not making any sense.. Check pulse. Very faint pulse not sure about respirations. Seemed like agonal breathing. He would lift his head up and open his mouth. Felt cold so was outside for some time. We quickly put him on stretcher and started bagging him with npa and bvm and administered a narcan. Checked pulse again and had no pulse so initiated cpr and aed and sectioned. . Medics arrived on scene later. Beating myself up over if I should of started cpr immediately or not

Idk what I'm hoping to gain from asking but i feel like i need feedback from someone who isn't a loved one - someone who isnt just like, "aw, she had a good life, don't beat yourself up" trying to make me feel better. I don't need to feel better about my decision, i need to know whether or not i fucked my lil baby over in making my decision.

No one knows for sure how old she was. I'd had her about 8 years, met her as a stray who showed up one morning on my bedroom window sill screaming for help. Shed been badly malnourished and abused for likely the majority of if not her entire life up until that morning. Beyond the superficial wounds, hair loss, infections etc. she was severely emaciated - about 3.5 lbs fully grown (whereas, upon receiving some much needed rehabilitation, an ideal weight of 9 lbs was eventually reached). Beyond even that, her lil frame was even improperly formed - her back legs bowed and her shoulders and hips "pinched" and unnaturally narrow - issues the vets had attributed to deficiencies suffered throughout her kittenhood and adolescence. Her teeth were broken and improperly formed. One was impacted and had to be surgically removed from her jawbone which also needed repaired - an issue the vets attributed to an upward-swinging trauma ("someone's done kicked you in your poor lil chompers ain't they" were the vet's exact words).

Due to the dental and skeletal damage/malformations, the the vets had always been unable to properly narrow down an age. All they were ever able to tell me is that she was definitely "an adult", probably a "mature adult" and possibly a "senior adult" at the time of adoption.

Other than these issues and several parasitic infestations, shed received a "clean" bill of health as far as FIV, feline leukemia, panleukopenia, diabetes etc go. She did have herpes 1. Obviously she received treatment for all treatable conditions.

She was cared for. She got special food. Special snacks. Extra attention. So much love. She had her own heating pad. Plenty of toys. Liquid vitamins in her fresh water. 3 much younger feline friends who treated her with wholesome respect I've not seen outside a 1950s film. She was a solid black lil lady whose random white hairs had grown significantly in number the last few years - she was clearly getting "up there" in age but still had so much zest and zing and sass.

She had just been driving me crazy begging for my tacos early last week. Crawling up into my lap screaming for a bite

Tonight is my last night as a PGY-2 and I’m on a 24 hour call. I’m going to walk into work tomorrow as a PGY-3 and see a bunch of new faces. I am absolutely thrilled. I don’t think I’m going to feel any different, but there are a bunch of you here who will be acting as physicians for the first and that will be very, very new for you. It’s okay to be nervous, it is okay to feel intimidated, it is okay to cry, and it is okay to celebrate. You’re going to be faced with new challenges and responsibilities like you’ve never seen and it will build you and break you and throw you straight into the stars you’ve been aiming for all this time….So I wanted to tell a story

My first night shift ever, a patient died.

I was an intern covering multiple surgical services as the overnight in house doing a 24. I had a chief in house, but she was running traumas and I was functionally alone for most of the night. No concerns during signouts, no ICU patients, plenty of “they are likely going home tomorrow” type patients. Things were in control and I honestly felt good. I was answering pages, seeing consults, and taking care of business. I was paged to a routine post op appy for some minor pain so I went to go see her - way on the other side of the hospital. My pager went off again while I was headed to the post op unit and I was close enough to a phone to answer within a few seconds.

“Hey this is chimmy43 with surgery, answering a page.”

“Is this surgery? Are you taking care of room 999, mr. lastname?”

“I am. How can I help?”

“Well, we turned him and he just stopped talking. We are not sure if he is breathing”

Honestly I don’t remember if there was anything else to that conversation. I remember cold dread, I remember running, and I standing in the doorway to the site of an old man with agonal respirations. He was completely unresponsive.

Now the crash cart was in the room and I’m trying to remember ACLS while also calling for help. The code blue alarm was ringing and people were on their way but they were not their yet. It was only me. It was only me for what was maybe 1 minute, but it lasted the longest minute of residency, but help did arrive. Agonal respirations became no respirations, hypotension became cardiac arrest and we coded him for 45 minutes. There was one faint glimmer of hope in the middle when we temporarily had signals back, but ultimately nothing was ever successful.

He was supposed to be discharged to rehab in the morning. He had an uncomplica

I have no idea how this could have happened. It came on out of nowhere. He was feeling weak and sick and when I got home to take him to the vet he was barely responsive. And then he died shortly after getting to the veterinarian. By the time I got to him he was having agonal respiration’s and staring off into space. Almost completely limp. He was an amazing cat. A big cat too and I have no idea how he could have died so young at the age of 8. Indoor cat and completely healthy otherwise. No trauma or anything of that nature…

Twenty-Two Twenty-Three

As my hands shake, I set the needle in to place. This isn’t just some elixir that solves the respiration’s quake. It’s a necessity required for longevities sake. Though through all these thoughts I’m still fighting fate. No one wins when they play this game. Hide behind the mask that gives you life. It’s just another night of strife. Just another forgettably unforgettable sight that leads to the inevitable fight.

Why? Why, tonight? Why, here of all places? Why bother asking why? Why do the dead tell tales when they come back to life? Why do we meet at this hour where I try to buy you another. That you’ll throw away for another day of death throes and woes. The agony of agonal breathing. The misleading abuse of youth and truth, that bought a lie and got impaled by the hooks it left in you.

The new one next to you quietly teething, while the rest of us are seething. Sleeping peacefully bundled up in the cold hard truth, never knowing just how close loss came quietly in the night. The proverbial monster isn’t under the bed, it slept next to it and choked instead. The chaos surrounds, yet that baby never makes a sound.

The compression, the depression, the break, the fate, and the hate that starts to seep in. The violence that precedes the efforts to succeed. The failure concedes, time of death 2223.

The wait, the wait, the wait, the wait.

The date sealed by a deal and a consequence to an action never meant to kill but always feeds itself on the ill. The response is the same but it always eats away at the shell of resolve built to help you feel.

The weight, the weight, the weight, the weight.

It’s always the first time, and no one knows a thing. The signs are apparent to any of the parents but they pull the curtain down and it becomes their funeral veil. The ignorance, or the preservation of innocence, takes precedence in the perception of these events.

The wake, the wake, the wake, the wake.

They gather around for the “dearly departed”, but where were they when this whole thing started? The alienation is half the affliction, the addiction is the completion of the transition. Handed the key to apartment one seven.

But this part is never near me, for I’m not involved in the lies and deceit. I ride the truck that’s set on repeat. It’s always “too young”, “so innocent”, the kindest of our number, the best at whatever. We say the good die young and it’s better to burn out than live forever but ask the remnant what they

I don’t know who else to talk to about this because I’ve never admitted my hoarding problem to any real friends or family. I have a whole floor of our family’s home and over the years, the entire over 1k sq ft floor has devolved to filth and squalor due to my depression and an excessive amount of rescue cats (which I have since made the agonizing choice to rehome since I’m not healthy enough to keep up with them). I have ignored it and pretended it’s not a problem for a good two years. But this isn’t an option anymore. I can’t sleep on the sofa on my relatives floor of the house anymore. I need my space and privacy. I’m finally starting today. I bought a wet dry vac, respirator mask, gloves, contractor bags, an ozone generator, and big trash cans. And am now calling to rent a dumpster. I felt so confident when I started making my online orders and looking around down there. But now that it’s actually time, I feel so much anxiety that it’s overwhelming. My stomach is literally moving, I feel seasick and nauseous. Almost having a fight-or-flight response. It’s so weird, I’ve cleaned out plenty of peoples houses over the years and the cleaning itself has never bothered me. But there’s something about confronting my own mess that makes me want to literally vomit. I don’t know why. I’m just so scared and overwhelmed that I cried for a half hour today just from thinking about what I have to start doing. And the worst part is the shame. I can’t call my parents or my friends for support because keeping this a secret is important to me. I got into this mess myself and i’m gonna clean it up myself. But man does it hurt to be facing your fears all alone with nobody to talk to about it. It’s not like when i’m building or baking something and can be talking about it in texts to friends and on my group chats, sending pics and updates of what i’m doing. This is a task I have to handle all on my own and in secret. And that makes it extra scary.

I don’t even understand why it’s such a big scary thing. It’s just putting trash in bags and cleaning, it’s so simple. And somehow that thought makes the shame worse and the tears turn to sobs. Like how can something so simple be so hard for me? I’ve been through some really severe trauma and persevered through all those horrible things like it was nothing, but just cleaning out a room has me putting it off for two years and sobbing when the time comes. It makes me feel so stupid and irrational which just escalates my negat

(tl:dr, witnessed 2 die at a car accident, stopped to help)

Hello,

A few weeks ago I had just finished up a 12 hour shift and was heading home at around midnight. It was a fairly good day like any other, but I was definitely ready for bed. I stopped for gas and even took the time to choose the right music.

Just a few blocks away from my home, I saw in the distance multiple cars blocking the one lane road I was on. As I got closer, I had to do a double take before realizing I’ve stumbled upon a 2 vehicle accident with one car on fire. I immediately pulled over and hopped out to see if everyone was okay. At least 2 other people had also pulled over and already had 911 on the phone by this point. I was still in my EMT uniform as I had just gotten off from working on the ambulance. I immediately did a quick scene size up, found 2 unconscious patients, one in each vehicle. The person on the phone with 911 was kind enough to lend me their phone so I could report my findings. After I knew that help was on the way, I sprung into action and immediately started trying to free the unconscious man from his blazing vehicle. The smoke was thick and the fire was quickly spreading. I was able to force the driver’s side door open, cut the airbags out of the way, and got help from a bystander in dragging him out to safety. The patient slowly started waking up shortly after. I then ran over to the other vehicle and started checking pulses on the driver. I couldn’t find anything, but I remained hopeful that I was just doing it incorrectly. The man was still gasping for air, also known as agonal respirations which are a sign of cardiac arrest. I tried to open all of the doors, but the vehicle was so badly damaged that they could not be opened. As I was doing that, I found out there was another patient slumped over in the passenger seat. I immediately broke the window and began to check for pulses, and again I couldn’t find anything. I kept hoping that they would soon wake up, but this never happened. I couldn’t even start CPR because they were trapped in the vehicle. The fire station was just down the street, but still it felt as if I were alone and on my own for an eternity. The fire grew bigger engulfing the other now unoccupied vehicle. As the fire engine arrived, I quickly told the paramedics of my findings. Shortly after, an entire fleet of fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars arrived. My job was finished and patient care was transferred to a higher level of care

Good morning. My name is Cherri. I was Robbie's volunteer doula with the hospice program. I am posting here to honor his wishes in providing this message board with an update after his passing. I am not familiar with this app, but Robbie gave me a little tutorial. Please forgive any mistakes :) Robbie had initially wanted to pass while conscious, however, he was having increased difficulty breathing Sunday morning. He received last rites from our chaplain and was sedated with midazolam, at his request, at 3:05 pm. He remained asleep and appeared comfortable. Agonal respirations were noted by the nurse at 6:14 pm and suppressed with morphine. The physician called time of death at 6:27 pm, Sunday, November 15, 2020. Robbie's passing was peaceful and without pain. Robbie spoke often of the kind messages he received on this board. I know they brought him comfort. His final posting was incredibly poignant and moved even our most seasoned staff to tears. He was a quiet man. I think his voice was his words. It was honor to attend to him in his passing. I was attracted to hospice because not everybody breaks a bone, not everybody has heart disease, but everybody dies. It is an honor to be with others as the undergo this universal journey, and it was a particular honor to attend to Robbie, who had no family or friends by his side. I am providing some images on imager that Robbie wanted shared with this board, one of him young and healthy, the other a final handwritten note. Please let me know if the link works:

http://imgur.com/a/OLbDMdx

I obviously cannot hold onto his phone :) it will be shut off and filed away with his estate, which is being handled by his family, who our social workers were able to locate Sunday evening. They expressed regret at the news of his illness and passing. We are sharing his final posting with them as well. One last thing before I go. First, Robby expressed many concerns about his suboxone. As the opiate epidemic continues to ravage our communities, we see more and more patients entering hospice on suboxone and methadone. I want those of you with opioid maintenance to know that you will never be judged by our staff, and your medications are not a barrier for care. Our organization consults with a pain specialist physician specifically for these cases. We will never let you die in pain. Never! I hope this posting provides some closure for those of you who have been following Robbie's case. These fast cancers are always sad, but Robbi

I don't want to step on anybody's toes here, but the amount of non-dad jokes here in this subreddit really annoys me. First of all, dad jokes CAN be NSFW, it clearly says so in the sub rules. Secondly, it doesn't automatically make it a dad joke if it's from a conversation between you and your child. Most importantly, the jokes that your CHILDREN tell YOU are not dad jokes. The point of a dad joke is that it's so cheesy only a dad who's trying to be funny would make such a joke. That's it. They are stupid plays on words, lame puns and so on. There has to be a clever pun or wordplay for it to be considered a dad joke.

Again, to all the fellow dads, I apologise if I'm sounding too harsh. But I just needed to get it off my chest.

23 years ago I met and fell desperately in love with someone, and he with me. We were both 16 years old and had as perfect a relationship that any teenagers could. Due to certain "friends" being jealous, a horrible rumor was started about me with the intention of breaking us up, and it worked. Although we were both hurt, we eventually moved on and even became friends again. I ended up marrying a person who turned out to be horrible, but I kept the memory of my perfect 16 year old love close to my heart and mind. He and I stayed peripherally in each other's lives, always running into each other during times of crisis, yet never having the courage to tell each other the truth. I always thought of him, though. Several years ago his father died, and I reached out to him. I was in the midst of a divorce, and he had just gotten engaged. Shortly after, my divorce was finalized and I saw he had gotten married. Selfishly, my first thought was "There goes my last chance with him", then immediately "I hope he is happy. He deserves it". They weren't, and also divorced shortly after. This was 4 years ago. I hadn't spoken to him, or really, earnestly thought of him in years, but in March of this year I had a dream, and his handsome face made a surprise appearance. I woke up immediately, and knew I had to speak to him. I had no way to reach him, amd not wanting to look like a deranged obsessed ex girlfriend, I reached out the only way I knew. A Facebook page he hadn't posted on in 3 years. I agonized all day on how I should phrase it, and finally settled on blunt honesty. I hit send, and figured the universe would let me know if I did the right thing. Eventually I kind of forgot about it. Then one night 5 months later, I heard a familiar little ping on my phone. I checked who it was, and my heart skipped several beats. It was him. We chatted a bit back and forth, then i sent my phone number and he called. After a few minutes of basic catching up, we were right back at it, joking around, discussing everyday things like it had just been the day before that we had spoken. It was always like that with him, even when we were kids. We stayed on the phone until almost 2 in the morning, when I was literally falling asleep at my kitchen table. I went to bed with a smile on my face for the first time in decades, and my heart was filled with love. I would have been happy had that been it, but imagine my surprise when he called again the next day, and

This is a repost. The original post is by u/medthrowaway87ei.

Buprenorphine is an opioid used to treat opioid use disorder, acute pain, and chronic pain. Suboxone is one of its trade names. Opioid tolerance, which is what Robert is worried about, implies a lesser susceptibility to the effects of opioids and it may develop in individuals with long-term use of opioids.

Suboxone patient dying of cancer. Concerned about palliation.

41 yo white male, history of opioid abuse disorder, no major surgeries recently. 12mg bupenorphine/3mg naloxone 1x daily.

I'll spare you the gory details. Small cell lung cancer, inoperable, 4 months to live. I've been referred to palliation. I'm a grumpy bastard and my life has been pretty unpleasant in many regards so I'm actually not that worried about dying. Had to check out sometime, yeah?

What I AM worried about is pain relief as a long-term bupenorphine patient. Even if I went cold turkey today, which my prescribing physician recommends against, I'd still have somewhat of an opioid tolerance, no?

I don't meet with hospice till Friday, so I have some questions. Will hospice be able to meet my needs even though I have a tolerance? I don't want to die in pain and I'm really not in a position to book a euthanasia appointment on the other side of the country.

Thank you for your help.

41yo male dying of lung cancer, meeting with palliative physician today. What kinds of questions should I ask him?

Hi everyone. Lung cancer guy again. Bad things are happening. Just got home from the hospital and barely avoided being admitted thanks to a palliative NP rushing over in the middle of the night to admit me into the home hospice program. I am forever grateful to her. I'm meeting the physician today. What kinds of questions should I ask?

My current list of questions is:

• Can you manage my pain after years of bupenorphine maintenance?
• Will someone be available to help me write letters? I'm cut off from my family but want to make amends.
• Will someone be with me all the time? I don't want to die alone and don't have anyone to call.
• Will I avoid terminal Restlessness and delirium? That is my only fear right now.

I don't think I have many more questions. Probably can't respond to many comments and PMs like I did last

[I'd prefer to not identify my country for personal reasons]

I'm a firearms range training instructor /RSO in my countries army at a basic training center. By time I even meet a group, they have been through classroom instruction on pretty much everything that can be taught in classroom.

They have basic range safety, to firearm mechanics, to ability to assemble/disassemble their firearms, to stance, etc. They've practiced with rubber replicas or inert guns on every skill that can be practiced with them. We have 42 hours divided among 12 scheduled lessons & 2 suprise lessons to qualify them in M16, Glock 17, and Remington 870.

This was something like lesson 2 with this group. It's not unusual to have a range of competencies from farmers/hunters/sport shooters well acquainted with firearms to city kids who are scared of firearms. Some groups are horrible, some are pretty good - not a single individual in this particular group was below average, and many were relatively high level.

We were doing pistol this day. I was on the far east side of the firing line doing some individual training with one of the kids who was lower level within the group, just working on the draw with him. Suddenly I hear lots of yelling from the other 2 RSOs, then the company TIs, and the sound of a scuffle.

We don't really do a lot of that type of yelling in the military where I'm from. We yell for volume / distance coverage, but very rarely for aggression / intimidation. This was the latter type, someone really fucked up. I gave the cease fire command, had everybody freeze, and went to the far west side of the line where this was going down.

I don't know what the hell happened, but the other 2 range TIs and the company TIs were ontop of this kid beating the utter shit out of him. We don't touch trainees much less provide a beatdown unless there's a very strong reason. So I definitely joined.

One has him in a rear choke & is doing knuckle strikes to the temples. Another has knee in side and is drilling him in the throat. Another has the trainees knees folded up behind him, is pushing them down and punching in the kidney area. Another has this kids elbow hyper-extended backwards with knee on wrist and is delivering knuckle strikes to the dorsum of his hand which has the glock 17 in it. I hop in as well to assist with ass kicking albiet having no idea why.

Even using strikes to his fingers & broken wrist with a baton didn't get him to let go

Some heavily

Do your worst!

Here is what I know. This is from publicly available information. If mods need verification, please send me a DM.

Around 1720, Troy Fire Medic 2 and Rescue Squad was dispatched to the Muller Center for a 21 year old male reported to be having a seizure. Dispatch information reported likely "agonal respirations." Shortly there after, additional information from RPI Public Safety reported the patient was breathing. Shortly after arrival of TFD Rescue Squad (approximately 12 minutes after the initial dispatch), they announced they were working a cardiac arrest and the TFD Battalion Chief was notified. Dispatch audio indicates that the patient may have been transported to Samaritan Hospital.

RPI Ambulance stores their ambulance directly behind the Muller Center. However, despite resolutions to the contrary by Student Senate, they remain out of service pending approval to return to service by RPI administration. Now, it is impossible to determine how RPI Ambulance may have responded to this incident so I won't go there. However the evidence shows that for young (<50 years old) patients, their chance of survival dramatically decreases with each second delay in care. While TFD was available for this incident, they are getting busier each day.

As an alum, I am pissed about the apparent lack of care the administration is showing for RPI students. RPI has an ambulance and group of students who dedicate countless hours of time to care for their fellow students. With NY vaccination phases and reported industry-standard infection control plans adopted by the group, there is no reason, other than RPI administrations carelessness, for these students to be neutered the way they are.

Now you know based on my last cases, I am not going to post your typical chest pain case. Have fun reading through this one and enjoy the 12 lead. I did post the 12 lead somewhere else when I acquired it a while back, so don't go and look for that case. This is the full write up start to finish.

Chief Complaint: Chest pain for the last 6 hours

HPI: The patient, who had a long-standing history of diabetes, coronary artery disease, and known coronary artery blockages had been experiencing chest pain since 2:30 AM, took 5-6 nitroglycerine tablets with no relief, as well as an oxcycodone 5 mg tablet over several hours. No relief was experienced, and she continued to have chest pain throughout the night along with shortness of breath. At approximately 8:30 AM the husband found her sitting upright in a chair, with severe chest pain and severe dyspnea. 911 was called and EMS was dispatched. On EMS arrival, the husband met the crew at the house door and relayed “she doesn’t look like she was breathing too well”.

Assessment: On assessment she was unconscious sitting upright in an easy chair with agonal respirations. Pulse was absent and she was moved to the floor and CPR was initiated. During approximately 90 seconds of CPR, pads were attached, and ventricular fibrillation was present. Initial rapid physical exam is noted below.

Initial Rapid Physical Exam:

• Respiratory Rate: 6-8, shallow and agonal
• Initial O2 saturation: 77% on room air
• Pulse: absent
• BP: 0/0
• Gaze: fixed and locked
• Movements: none purposeful

However, while the monitor was being readied for a shock, the patient spontaneously converted to an organized rhythm, CPR was continued for another 15 seconds, and she then began making slight movements with her arms along with spontaneous respirations. She was switched to a nonrebreather mask and basic vital signs and exam were obtained and a 12 lead ECG was performed.

Physical Exam:

• Height: 5’ 3”
• Weight 110 lbs
• Pulse: 90-110 and weak
• Respirations: 14-16 and eupneic
• Lung sounds: crackles at the anterior and posterior bases; apical and medial aspects clear to auscultation
• Blood Pressure: 126/64; 104/58
• Blood glucose: 173mg/dL
• Skin: pale with evidence of hypoperfusion
• Temperature: 99.1F
• Pupils: PERRLA
• Eyes: unremarkable
• Head: unremarkabke
• Abdomen: soft, non-tender, non-distended, no fluid wave, with no evidence of wincing, guarding, or vocalization of pain when palpated. No rebound tenderness,

I'm surprised it hasn't decade.

For context I'm a Refuse Driver (Garbage man) & today I was on food waste. After I'd tipped I was checking the wagon for any defects when I spotted a lone pea balanced on the lifts.

I said "hey look, an escaPEA"

No one near me but it didn't half make me laugh for a good hour or so!

Edit: I can't believe how much this has blown up. Thank you everyone I've had a blast reading through the replies 😂

It really does, I swear!

Genuinely curious here. I’d say the Death Rattle [https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_rattle ] ranks right up there.

Also Agonal Breathing [https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agonal_respiration ] pretty disturbing to hear too.

They’re on standbi

Pilot on me!!

I've been an ER nurse for two years and last night one of my patients coded in front of me. I've been in codes numerous times and it never phased me but I can't stop thinking about this one. They were slightly anxious but talking at the start of shift and just gradually declined within the first 30 minutes. They ended up having agonal respirations so we tubed them and then shortly after became super bradycardic until asystole. I was the first to jump on the chest for compressions. I've seen numerous deaths and I've done CPR on numerous people but I just can't stop going over this one in my head. Just wanted to vent!

Nothing, he was gladiator.

Dad jokes are supposed to be jokes you can tell a kid and they will understand it and find it funny.

This sub is mostly just NSFW puns now.

If it needs a NSFW tag it's not a dad joke. There should just be a NSFW puns subreddit for that.

Edit* I'm not replying any longer and turning off notifications but to all those that say "no one cares", there sure are a lot of you arguing about it. Maybe I'm wrong but you people don't need to be rude about it. If you really don't care, don't comment.

What did 0 say to 8 ?

" Nice Belt "

So What did 3 say to 8 ?

" Hey, you two stop making out "

I won't be doing that today!

[Removed]

You take away their little brooms

This morning, my 4 year old daughter.

Daughter: I'm hungry

Me: nerves building, smile widening

Me: Hi hungry, I'm dad.

She had no idea what was going on but I finally did it.

Thank you all for listening.

Why

It’s pronounced “Noel.”

When I got home, they were still there.

There hasn't been a post all year!