Henry was trying to take a nap on the couch when Chooch found a flashlight. You should know that Henry is a member of that secret society of men who are really overprotective and weird about their flashlights, so the fact that he even left it out in plain sight for Chooch to find is a huge deal. So Henry is sleeping, and Chooch turns off all of the lights and starts shining the flashlight in Henry’s slumber-sagged face, which was funny enough but then I pointed out that the bristles of Henry’s beard were putting on a riveting shadow play upon the wall and then Chooch and I totally fucking lost it.
I mean, I was screaming, that’s how hard I was laughing. So Henry of course woke up, mumbled about us being fucking idiots and god knows what else, and then suggested we leave.
“Go walk and get shoes or ice cream or something,” he muttered. Luckily, he let us put on our shoes first. But you guys, Chooch and me on the loose in Brookline—AT NIGHT?
Because a girl on a diet will choose ice cream over shoes in a heartbeat, we decided to walk to Scoops on Brookline Boulevard. (I wanted to have a red velvet milkshake for dinner, and since I “ran” almost three miles this morning in the cemetery, I think that’s acceptable). On the way, we passed the American Legion while Bingo was going on, and since Henry wasn’t there to stop us, we screamed BINGO!!!!!! and then ran. Henry NEVER lets us do that. A minute later, Chooch wasn’t paying attention and walked into a street sign.
He’s OK, though. It was right outside of the fire station, so one of them probably could have helped if we needed it. And if not, the Las Palmas Mexicans were right across the street serving up tacos so probably they could have helped, too. Basically, one of any adults in the area that’s not Erin R. Kelly would have been dependable, I’m sure.
We got our ice cream without incident. Chooch ordered mint chocolate chip and told the ice cream ladler that one scoop was fine, but to me he muttered that he actually wanted two scoops but DADDY never lets him.
“That’s because he’s unreasonable. Get two scoops,” I said with a shrug. So he did and we walked away enjoying our ice cream and newfound independence.
But then we stopped at CVS on the way back because Henry told us to get newspaper for the paper mache project we’re doing this weekend. That seemed like not too hard of a task until I couldn’t find the newspaper! We walked up and down every aisle! And no newspaper!
Chooch was all, “No seriously, I know where it is” and that fucker took me to the TOY AISLE. They didn’t even have TOY newspapers!
So I had to call dumb Henry and he was all, “I don’t know! It should be by the door!”
“Then check on the counter!” he yelled.
IT WASN’T THERE EITHER. Except that it actually was so then I hung up on him and bought the stupid paper. I was all stressed out over this but then I realized that “Just the Two Of Us” (the real Grover Washington, Jr. one, not the shitty Will Smith rip-off) was playing overhead and wow, how relevant to the situation. WE CAN MAKE IT IF WE TRY, CHOOCH. JUST THE TWO OF US, BUILDING THEM CASTLES IN BROOKLINE.
I walked and Chooch parkoured the whole way home and Henry was all, “WHERE IS THE ICE CREAM” when we walked in the house, like we were supposed to save that asshole any after he made us leave? Fuck that.