Henry is still recuperating from The Worst Day Ever (what he lovingly calls Warped Tour), so I tried to let him have a low-key weekend. This is something that’s hard for me because I always want to go-go-go, and after years of being so financially strapped that tagging along to the grocery store with Henry was considered “going somewhere,” it’s nice to be able to actually DO THINGS now*. But sometimes it’s necessary to just chill the fuck at home. (I guess.)
*(Don’t get it twisted—we’re by no means rich or anything. Basically went from one echelon of Poor to another slightly higher one.)
Ice cream cone swagggg
I got red velvet soft serve in a chocolate chip cookie cone, which was fucking delicious but then it became a swamp of melted goo at the end so I passed it off to Henry because I can’t stand messy food.
Chooch sang Chiodos songs on the way home and I had all kinds of proud mom-love for him at that moment.
Today, we went to visit Speck & Don’s graves. I picked out sunflowers for Don. Chooch got some kind of typical grocery store assortment for Speck.
Made the mistake of going inside the animal shelter afterward, which always makes me cry because I want to bring all the animals home but you know, who really can? Totally fell in love with this big, fat, fluffy gray girl who I think was 8 or 9 years old.
The Yough Trail (a bike trail that runs from somewhere to somewhere, I don’t listen to Henry when he tries to teach us; it ends in D.C. I think?) is right by the pet cemetery so I made Henry and Chooch suffer through a walk with me. I love how quickly the Law Firm Fitness Challenge becomes everyone’s problem!
I don’t know why Henry was bitching though because he got to look at nature and point out wild strawberries and algae. There was a shooting range nearby and I was so afraid of getting hit by an errant bullet and this supposedly “irrational” fear made Henry irritated; so between his infuriating voice of dissent and Chooch constantly making me trip over his fucking scooter, I power-walked ahead of them until eventually I couldn’t even see them anymore when I turned around. It was wonderful! (And also slightly alarming because it would be just like Henry to try to teach me some stupid lesson by leaving or jumping out of the woods with a chainsaw.)
One annoying thing though is that since it’s a bike trail, there are a LOT of bikers. Go figure! Anyway, bikers are really fucking friendly and have a great desire to slap you in the face with their winded salutations. God, you say hi to one biker, you say hi to them all, you know? I eventually just stopped responding.
Chooch really hates walking and his scooter is just stupid, so Henry mused about all three of us getting bikes. I agreed, but under the stipulation that we get matching shirts, like we’re some team of ragtag rejects.
“I want the back of mine to say Mrs. Jonny Craig,” I said gleefully.
“Then I want mine to say I’m Not With Her,” Henry retorted, but I think it should say Not Jonny Craig because I don’t want anyone to think Henry is embarrassed to be my husband. Oh wait, record scratch: the whole Internet already thinks that.
Came home and went for another walk around my dumb neighborhood–without my hindrances this time.
BONUS: When we were walking home from dinner Friday night, this huge, weirdly-shaped plane was flying overhead and Henry practically pole-vaulted to the SERVICE heavens with the boner it caused.
He told me what kind of plane it was but fuck if I care.
Anyway, I guess it was good to stay home because we’re going away next weekend for my birthday, whaddup!