Feb 182009
 

It is the end of Day Three: Henry’s Working Two Jobs Now. I won’t try and be all courageous on your shit, saying that it’s all been fucking swell. It hasn’t. It has been really fucking stressful. I know that there are people out there who do this shit every goddamn day of their lives and I feel like starting up a charity foundation in their honor because Jesus Fucking Shit-Packing Christ, these are some hard ass, arduous days. Right now I’m a little tanked on wine, I won’t kid.

Chooch is just —I mean, he’s my fucking kid, I love him, but good goddamn, one of us isn’t going to survive this. And I’m pretty sure that someone is me. I am laughing sardonically at myself for spending all this time fretting about the fact that I might have to actually boil a pot of water, when meanwhile, it’s the child-rearing that has me digging a grave.

This kid is going to kill me. He thinks he’s going to walk all over me, but he forgets that I bore him. He and I? We share the same stubborn gene. And we go round and round, we do.

Tonight, I decided to conpile a list of synonyms for “crazy.” I only made it as far as “loco” before being distracted by a ruddy-cheeked hooligan charging through the room growling “chicken blood asshole,” a not so cute and whimsical departure from the semi-adorable “cookie cake asshole.”

THE WEEK IS HALF OVER NOW GIVE ME SOME TEQUILA AND A STRIPPER.Oh, and a job-thing.

  5 Responses to “DAY THREE”

  1. hey, i feel the SAME way…but wait…i don’t have a kid.

    holy crap, if i did, i guess i’d be even crazier than YOU

    ;)

  2. strippers are overrated

    tequila though? oh hells yes
    lets cage chooch and make margaritas

  3. This child sounds like a maniac. Hang in there. I’m sure you’re doing awesome. Maybe he’ll get used to thew situation and calm down? Ok- probably not, but I’m sure you’ll find a new job soon!

  4. Oooh, can I be on the walk-a-thon tee-shirt?

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