I pretty much eat fruit, Special K cereal and diet potato chips all week, so Saturdays are much-needed Weight Watchers splurge days. I try to make sure I still stuff in some activity in between carb-heavy Pamela’s breakfasts with Jeannie and afternoon ice cream cones. So I dragged Henry and Chooch out to walk infinite miles in the cemetery. Otherwise, I think my body would go into shock.
Chooch rode his scooter the whole time, and I am totally That Mom who screams, “OH MY GOD, CHOOCH SLOW DOWN! OH HENRY STOP HIM! HE’S GOING TO GET HIT BY A CAR!”
“He could be in a skate park and you would still think a car is going to hop the fence and hit him,” Henry sighed.
I can’t help it. I get Jello-legs just thinking about it. I wish Henry never bought him this scooter!!
Meanwhile, Henry got all butt-hurt when his desire to point out a chipmunk to us was received by giddy laughter and evil mocking. “OMG look Mommy! It’s a BIRD!” Chooch cried and we both doubled over in uncontrollable braying.
Henry stuffed his hands in his pockets and snapped, “I’M NOT SAYING ANYTHING ANYMORE. YOU TWO ASSHOLES CAN GO THRU LIFE KNOWING NOTHING.” Of course that made our giddiness straight jump the tracks and I can’t speak for Chooch, but the pee-drops were ready to fall.
Every time we go to Homewood Cemetery, Henry cranks up his “You Two Are Going to Fall Into the Pond” parental spiel. I know that the reality of this happening is very strong, but it still makes me so angry. How often do we just suddenly tumble into bodies of water, Henry!?
Chooch illustrates how someone might fall into a pond for real.
I could look at frogs all the livelong fucking day. I LOVE FROGS. Unfortunately, this leaves the door open for Henry to recite some of the National Geographic factoids he has crammed in his annoying egg head. God, go find a Boy Scout troop to lead into the woods or something. Seriously!
OH MY FUCKING GOD IT’S A GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING BIRD FLYING IN THE CEMETERY! And Henry was still being all butthurt over the chipmunk so he bit his tongue but you could tell he was ready to shit his pants, that’s how badly he wanted to point out what kind of bird it was.
Oh shit, afterward, we went to get ice cream at Oh Yeah. I was all, “I’m going to get fig and pistachio because I am boring and that is all I ever get at Oh Yeah” but then I saw “lavender” on the add-on list and almost wrenched Henry’s dick off in my embellished excitement.
Thank god there were enough people ahead of me to give me ample time to coax my head into exploding because, Jesus Christ — WHAT WOULD GO BEST WITH LAVENDER?!
Chooch was not nearly as excited about the lavender as I was.
Who the fuck frowns in an ice cream shop??
Chooch wound up ordering chocolate ice cream with Kit Kats as his mix-in, while I wrung my hands in sweaty anticipation. Of course the guy who owns the place switched out with the other Professional Ice Cream Scooper just in time to heckle my flavor combo.
(I’m pretty sure he’s the owner and he is very intimidating in his cowboy hat and steely, flavor-judging eyes.)
“Oh, good choice!” he enthused, unknowingly giving me the green light to adopt the official I Just Impressed an Ice Cream Shop Owner!!! look of smugness for approximately the next 5 minutes. (OK, hour at least.)
Meanwhile, Chooch dropped his ice cream cone before I even got mine, so when it was Henry’s turn to order, he sighed gravely and re-ordered Chooch’s ice cream. (And I’d like to take this time to point out that Chooch apparently tried to eat his ice cream off the floor and Henry had to scold him. Well, dude — when his father eats FUNNEL CAKE OFF THE PAVEMENT, what do you expect?)
So, looks like really only 2 of us were YAY SO STOKED!! for ice cream after that.
(Don’t cry too much for Henry, he got to finish Chooch’s cone.)
Fuck, that was a good ice cream cone.
We finished off the day of poor food choices by going out for Chinese. (My dinner was mostly steamed vegetables and fish, and I only ate 1/4 of it anyway, so I didn’t feel too gluttonous.)
“I hope my fortune says ‘You will receive 7000 cats’,” Chooch sighed dreamily.
It didn’t, thank god.No tags for this post.