My Saturday was going pretty well until I realized it was Sunday.

Every Sunday is superbowel if you eat enough chili.

My Saturday was going really well, until I realized it’s Sunday!

Don’t worry, better days are coming. They are called Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

I’m begging for a day to be added in between Saturday and Sunday.

Weekends are getting shorter and shorter. You blink and it’s already Sunday 5pm.

No matter how busy my Sunday gets, I always manage to set aside time to panic about Monday.

Sunday is my favorite day to invent new things to worry about.

What’s wrong with the people who come to visit on Sundays? Don’t they have a couch?

Why is Saturday over in 7 minutes and Sunday in 4 minutes, but Monday is 84 months long?

In my opinion, those who go jogging on a Sunday morning certainly don’t have a comfortable sofa.

If you have children, you can experience all human emotions before 9 a.m. on Sundays.

I don’t know who needs to hear this right now, but it’s time to fold the laundry that’s been lying around since last Sunday.

Sunday night: Super Bowl party! Monday morning: Toilet Bowl party!

There should be a day between Sunday and Monday called Hang on a Second.

Shuffling into the kitchen in a robe Sunday morning to change the clock on the microwave is the lamest form of time travel ever.

What’s really missing is a day between Saturday and Sunday.

They should invent a Sunday that’s longer than a couple of minutes.

It’s Sunday. I’ve slept in and ignored church. Somewhere the devil is sitting and clicking on “Like”.

I made coffee and carried it to the couch. I’ve done everything I had planned for this Sunday.

Diarrhea awareness week starts today. Runs through Sunday.

Sunday is my favorite day where I pretend I’m going to do something productive.

Parenting is cheering on your kid’s winning softball team all weekend and then cheering on the Sunday rain for cancelling the rest of the games.