For Throwback Thursday, I was revisiting old LiveJournal stories when I came across this one from 2004 that sincerely illustrates my relationship with Henry. We are exactly the same! I don’t know if I should be happy that, after 14 years, he still pays enough attention to what I’m doing to feel the need to scold me; or embarrassed that I honestly haven’t matured one tiny smidge.
The only difference is now that we have a kid, he’s doing twice the scolding.
Anyway, while I go back to complaining to Henry about my latest workout injuries, please enjoy Our Day at the Homewood Cemetery.
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March 28th, 2004
Today at the cemetery, Henry utilized each and every phrase in his repertoire of scolding verbiage.
“Stop it!”
“Shhh!”
“Put that down!”
“You’re a fucking weirdo.”
“People go to jail for that!”
“Leave the cat alone.”
“Get down from there!”
And let’s not forget the obligatory “Grow up.” I need a new walking partner. Any takers?
We were in one of the mausoleums and there was this one hallway that was completely dark. I was terror-stricken and started running. That constituted a “settle down” from Papa H. We couldn’t get out the one door to leave and naturally, since I’m prone to panicking, I completely forgot that there was another exit. My heart was beating so fast, and Henry started making references to “Phantasm.” (Although he originally kept saying “Hellraiser” until I corrected him. Because I’m the best.) Anyhow, we made it out safely and I informed Henry that I had chills. He was all, “That’s because it was cold in there.” He’s such a parade shitter.
The cat that I saw, though, I think was a ghost. I chased it all over the place, in spite of Henry’s warnings of rabies.
There was a guy and girl that were cleaning off this one section of graves, and I was trying to contain my laughter, which resulted in my snorting. Henry hissed, “Some people come here for a reason, you know.” He’s such a hater.
The best is the look that he gets on his face when I randomly let loose an ear piercing shriek. Tormenting him is the best part of our relationship.
2 Responses to “Vintage Erin & Henry, Cemetery Edition”
Say it don't spray it.
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This is definitely a story that could have happened yesterday. I love it.
At first I thought this was going to be the post about moss, and I was anticipating! However, the use of the word “parade shitter” more than made up for the lack of moss.