The directors of our department chartered a Just Ducky boat for our group last week, so a bunch of us signed up to go on a boat tour of Pittsburgh after work. We were allowed to bring our kids, so I stupidly said that I would be bringing Chooch, and then remembered that he was going to be on a boat with a bunch of my co-workers and that could potentially not be that great.
To double my doubts, Henry completely set him off before bringing him downtown to meet me, by opening Chooch’s report card and pretending it said he had to repeat second grade (literally every person I told this to believed it, so now I’m wondering how dumb they think my child really is). Obviously this was a joke, because Chooch once again got straight As (sorry, but I don’t count that B he gets in handwriting every time because HANDWRITING IS NOT A SUBJECT). But Chooch fell for it and started crying really hard, apparently.
So by the time Henry brought him downtown to meet me, Chooch was totally acting bipolar and saying stupid shit like “Me five days old” to my freaking BOSS after I was like, “HERE IS A LIST OF PEOPLE TO JUST NOT TALK TO, OK? JUST DON’T TALK TO THEM AT ALL.” Because sometimes I’d rather certain people think I have a mute son than a jerk.
And then BARB had to go and ask him about his report card, which made him start SOBBING and then people were like, “LET’S GET A GROUP PHOTO OF ALL OF THE CHILDREN!” right smack in the middle of Chooch crying and I was like, “PLEASE JUST STOP CRYING AND GO GET YOUR FUCKING PICTURE TAKEN DON’T EMBARRASS ME OMG.”
In hindsight, he was honestly just acting like a tired, cranky kid and everyone was like, “Don’t be stupid, he was fine” but I guess I’m just used to Chooch the Adult, which is what I get from him at home. So anytime he acts like a typical brat-kid, I get weirded out and feel like an awful parent.
Finally, the stupid boat came and picked us up and Chooch managed to not say anything offensive during the whole trip, probably because he was too busy pouting.
Henry didn’t go on the tour because I didn’t ask him if he wanted to, HA.
One of the directors of our department was sitting in front of us and she kept playfully trying to take Chooch’s picture, which apparently is now a thing that he hates and of course it’s all my fault, so he started crying again but luckily she didn’t notice.
So this is one of those tours that starts out on land and then plows right into the river and it’s actually pretty scary. One of the boat people told Chooch to keep his foot over a hole on the floor to keep the water from coming in and because we’re both idiots, we believed it. Finally, I was like, “Wait, I don’t think you have to keep your foot there, really.”
Here’s when I pleaded with him to act like Normal Folk with me and allow me to take a picture of ourselves having “supposed” fun on a boat.
We learned stuff but mostly it was just an hour’s worth of really dumb jokes. Like, “LOOK THERE’S A PITTSBURGH CROCODILE!” which really annoyed Chooch.
“It’s just a STICK,” he muttered in disgust.
There are over 400 bridges in Pittsburgh, apparently. That sounds familiar, like someone might have tried to teach me that before but like all information about this city, my body rejected it. Or if we were told something that I actually HAD remembered, I would scoff and say that I had already learned that on the haunted walk I did in May with Wendy, Evonne and Jeannie.
As soon as the boat tour came to an end, Chooch’s mouth started up again and I was bursting blood vessels in my head brain in an effort to psychically beat him. And then on the trolley ride home, Chooch made sure EVERYONE knew about what a horrible prank Henry played on him with the report card and WHAT KIND OF FATHER SAYS THAT TO HIS SON?!
I wanted to die.
Meanwhile, Henry was excited to tell me that while he was sitting on a wall waiting for us (exactly what I figured he would be doing, by the way), he saw three people that we saw at the Circa Survive show earlier that week, and that while he was eating dinner at Five Guys in Market Square, some girl came in and she was wearing an Emarosa shirt. COOL STORY, HENRY-BRO.
Anyway, Chooch ate a burger once we got home and then immediately crashed. Hunger and exhaustion: what a lethal mix.
I think the moral of this story is to not let my kid tag along to any upcoming work functions.