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Ever notice how your son can transform into a walking encyclopedia when it's about dinosaurs? You're not just a dad, you're a prehistoric Wikipedia with snacks.
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Your son has an uncanny ability to turn any household item into a spaceship or a weapon. Suddenly, a spoon becomes a lightsaber, and the sofa cushions, a fortress. It's like living in a toy store's combat zone.
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Parenthood is like having a tiny roommate who refuses to share the remote control and insists on watching cartoons 24/7. I didn't sign up for this version of "House of Toddler Cards.
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You know you're a parent when your son suddenly becomes an expert negotiator. "I'll trade you three bites of broccoli for one extra hour of video games." It's like living with a tiny Wall Street broker.
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Your son's ability to make friends at the park is impressive. It's like a secret society meeting, except the password is sharing snacks and the handshake involves high-fives.
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Having a son means learning a new language. "Grunt" translates to "I'm hungry," "Groan" means "I'm tired," and "Scream" means "I can't find my favorite toy.
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Ever notice how your son's favorite question is always, "Why?" You could be explaining the mysteries of the universe, and he'll still ask, "But why is the sky blue?
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One thing about having a son: every game of hide-and-seek turns into a top-secret mission. Forget FBI training; just ask a parent whose son is hiding somewhere in the house.
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Having a son is like having a tiny shadow that follows you everywhere, asking a million questions and leaving a trail of Legos behind. It's the ultimate stealth mode training.
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