Thank god I get emails from Pampers telling me how many months it’s been since my son was born, or I’d have to continue telling people he’s two-and-a-halfish. So if I put my faith in Pampers, Chooch is 32 months old now, and pretty heavy into Nickelodeon sitcoms like “Drake and Josh” and “iCarly.” I always know when he’s watching the latter by Henry’s boisterous laughter, which comes with a nervous epilogue of “I mean, I’m only laughing because it’s so stupid and improbable.”
I don’t mind these shows, but I pray they’re not some sneaky gateway show into the stool-softening garbage on the Disney channel.
While he still gravitates toward the Cure and post-hardcore sundry (I melt when, from the backseat, he requests, “Pierce the Veil, mommy!”), he has taken a liking to Katy Perry. I’m not thrilled about this, but I can acknowledge that it could be much worse. Oh so much worse. Miley Cyrus? Jessica Simpson? NICKELBACK?? [Why are people still buying Nickelback records? I met them in 2001 before they were mainstream radio whores and Chad Kroeger had already been prepped and primed for douchehood.]
The other afternoon, I was getting ready for work while he was “napping.” (I use that term very loosely as he primarily uses that downtime in his crib to plot Mommy’s impending mental breakdown and pen possible meals he can make once he succeeds in slaughtering our cat Nicotina.) So in his room, I keep his radio on one of the variety stations, and the newer Katy Perry single, “Hot and Cold,” came on. Chooch got quiet, then murmured, “Oh. Katy Perry’s on!” Then he quietly laughed – pre-nap delerium – and cooed, “Ha, Katy Perry…” He knows the video by heart, and yells, “I do!” at precisely the right moment during the wedding scene. Then it’s, “Dance, Mommy! Dance!” and I’m dragged off the couch and forced to run laps around the coffee table.
He still upchucks obscenities with the gusto of a Southern trucker but he, thankfully, has been good about it in public. We dropped him off at Janna’s on Saturday so we could finish shopping and she said he never swore once and was “really cute.” That explains why the car ride home was peppered with “asshole”s and “jackass”s then – he was like a clogged pipe.
But hey, other than that, he hasn’t committed arson or anything.