Nobody seems to appreciate my work except my own parents, so this goes out to them.
Step one: buy your son a car. Step two: force him to drive around with those stickers on the back. He'll drive safely guaranteed.
Daddy needs some milk too, you know.
Imagine the look on both their faces when they realized what's going on.
Unfortunately, he's not your dad. I just had to let that one slip.
Sometimes I wonder how dad managed to park here.
I guess you can ask each of them who is your daddy.
We are trapped with this stink bomb. Please help us!
I am ready to be a dad. Hold on, I'll fix that for you.
It's obvious. No DNA needed, true, true, true.