OK, totally disappointed here. It’s been two hours and Veronique is still alone in her dorm room. How can she live her best college life if no one will even make the effort to meet her? What kind of place is this? Is this how you raised your kids? — Turning the car around, V’s mom

BRB. Today's cartoon by Frega DiPerri.

Your purpose isn’t to please your parents. It’s to find your own bliss, whether that comes from bar trivia, travel to destinations that allow you to bring your dog, or covering my rent once I’m too old to work but haven’t amassed a large enough 401(k) to last through retirement.

Shocking growth. Today's cartoon by Mat Barton & Adam Cooper.

A wood it kill you to call? Today's cartoon by Dan Misdea.

Wait, why is your toddler yelling that you’re a stranger who’s trying to lure her out of the playground with candy? Did you hear that - your daughter used the word “lure.” She has a GREAT vocabulary. Oh, right, not really the point. Take her hand and start walking out of the playground. No, she shouldn’t be screaming like that. Oh wow, that’s a lot of cop cars. 

Milk bottle game: –$3 Milk bottle game: –$3 Milk bottle game: –$3 Attempt to pay off the carnival game worker: –$25

No work out, just work. Today's cartoon by Drew Panckeri.

In the not-so-guest bedroom / There was a full-sized race car bed  / And my 398-month-old son tucked away, watching Beavis and Butthead 

Mouse Pad (if unavailable, back issue of Entertainment Weekly from the bathroom will do). Beer Koozie (for the days when Dad is helping out). Pencil Box, with extra compartment used to hold Mommy's Xanax. And more!

What’s a conception reception? Think Burning Man meets Midsommar. For the next seven days, we’ll be celebrating the ovulation happening in Sarah’s tubes and you’ll have a front row ticket to the show.

GPS watch: You used to turn to your dad for direction, but soon realized that all his advice was taken verbatim from a book he keeps in the bathroom called, “God Made Me Do It.”

11AM — Pia and our cat Lionel are finally getting along. I was getting worried for a moment we’d have to put him down.

This haunted house is filled with socks. I can handle this, you think, I love socks! You sift through the piles and a vague feeling of dread envelops you as you realize there are no white crew socks anywhere. Only ankle socks and no-shows. All garishly colored. You look down at your feet and your white crew socks are gone. Replaced with ridiculous-looking, no-show socks that are…blue? What the hell? You grab a hideous sock from the pile that is threatening to engulf you and stuff it in your mouth to quell the screaming.