May 282009
 

Oh dear Lord, I found this old post from Mother’s Day 2007 when I was looking for something and I haven’t publicly made a mockery of Henry in so long, like an entire month maybe, so excuse me while I indulge in a re-post.


It had quickly become my dying wish, this one thing that I wanted last week. The desire for this favor was so great, like I could die from the sheer want of it all. The extremity of it had far surpassed my dream of starting a jump rope league, and was at least on par with the Robert Smith / Lydia Lunch personal journal conquest of 2001, where my insanity had reached such high summits that I was ready to sell my car to finance the purchase.  If I had to put it in terms that the rational populace might understand,  I might liken the obsession to dreams of aquiring a new house or the incessant need to check yourself for venereal diseases.

This obsession overtook each of my senses: a palpable vinegar pool of yearning swirling on my tongue; the sneering visage of an undulating Satan dangling my dire longing before my eyes; a needling Siren song of excruciating taunt engulfing my ears. And Henry was the only one who could make it go away.

When I initially presented him with my proposition on a Monday, Henry seemed perplexed, probably from his deep-seeded inherent fantasies surging forth. To camouflage his interest, he instead scoffed and rather quickly became sucked back into Food Network. Broaching the sensitive topic on Tuesday resulted in an equivocal “We’ll see,” which I’m truly talented at converting to the far affirmative side of the Erin Gets Her Way spectrum.

By that Wednesday, he was putty in my hands. It could have been over and done with in a mere two minutes, the butterfly finally in my net, but I had to push my luck as usual.

“Why don’t we take this outside for a second?”

When he reluctantly agreed, I pushed further.

“Across the street and by that tree.”

And the foot came down.

We didn’t talk for nearly an hour.

Using Mothers Day as leverage, I finally got what I wanted.



Hey, if you got the legs to rock it….

Notice the stark contrast between the ones where he was pushed out of his comfort zone and this next one, where he was clearly in his Pretty Girlie Sue Sue element and patiently waiting his turn to strike a pose on the catwalk, as Robert smiles down some moxie on him from the background.

  26 Responses to “Pretty, Pretty Henry”

  1. This is just fabulous.

  2. Very beautiful. Robert is getting himself some eye candy. He needs lipstick.

  3. I agree, the next photoshoot should include lipstick. I made Jason wear mine in one of my Facebook photos.

    These are lovely!

    • Thanks, Ami! I have pictures of Henry in makeup floating around somewhere, I think it was for that Blogathon thing.

      I have to go see that picture of Jason now, lol.

  4. woman’s lib: happening in small ways all over the country

    this wins at everything it could possibly win at

    Franesco´s last blog post..Lacroix, sweetie darling?

  5. OMFG Erin. This is beyond hysterical. I’m actually LOLing over here, no lie.

  6. i love my dad most of the time.
    this is just to fucking perfect hahaha

  7. you were jumping rope back then too?

    • No, I wasn’t jumproping then, but I believe that was a reference to when I was obsessed with some jumproping competition I saw on ESPN a few years ago and I wanted to put together a double dutch team.

  8. I remember these pictures. Werent these a blogathon dare or something?

    Either way, Henry is a trooper, but you looked much better in the tutu.

    • I think the one from Blogathon was Henry wearing one of my skirts. It was your request, wasn’t it?

      Henry is a trooper. One day, he’s going to get me back hardcore, I just know it!

  9. I would totally buy Henry trading cards!

  10. OMFG!!!!!!!!!! PERFECT!!!!!!

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