In 2nd grade I didn’t know my teacher’s name for the longest time, so I just kept calling her teacher and she got so mad one day and yelled “MY NAME IS NOT TEACHER. IT IS MRS. MUSTARD. NOW YOU REMEMBER THIS, YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” and 5 seconds of silence go by and my five year old self decides to say
is your husband mr. ketchup
and this is the proudest moment of my life.
(via she-is-a-whorror)
