I’m starting to think that Chooch acts like an asshole on Saturdays because he goes all week with being with just one of us since I work at night, and then all of a sudden Saturday arrives and it’s a parental double team on his bitchass.
He’s fine until the evening, at which point he totally overdoses on our dual presence and suffers an emotional meltdown.
First, his nemesis was Henry, so he vowed to have a yard sale in order to pawn him off on some poor fatherless sucker.
“And then hopefully Jonny Craig will drive by and be our new dad, RIGHT MOMMY?!”
I was about to agree with raucous cheering, but Henry interjected snidely.
“Is he even allowed to drive?”
That’s a good point, although he does have a song called “I’m Jonny Craig, Bitch, and I Drive In Reverse” (Hi, I’ve been telling the Internet since 2008 that he’s a douchebag.)
Anyway, then I had the nerve to laugh at Chooch who was sitting on his little Cars chair by the front door, yelling about how he legit hates his life and this is THE WORST DAY EVER, so he angrily grabbed another piece of paper and drew up my walking papers.
“They can take BOTH OF YOU for two cents!” he spat as he scrawled out the new for sale sign with a fistful of fury. And then, “Stop LAUGHING AT ME!!!!”
He taped them to the front door and began screaming to all of Brookline that he had put both parents up on the market.
I like that I’m referred to as Erin, not Mommy.
Me: I’m going to start calling you Surly Shirley.
Chooch, totally spitting vitriol: Then I’m going to call you Jersey Shorely.
Damn. I don’t even know what that means, but sick burn, sonnnn.