Jun 112015
 

So, I guess Henry’s 50th birthday was OK! I mean, he seemed OK. But you know Henry — he is impervious to emotion. After waking up early to do laundry and wash the car, coming home and making us breakfast, and then taking three naps, we all went succulent shopping.

“But First We Have to Get Gas!” shot.

We bought plants and went to Goodwill. Henry bought me this weird Mary thing! It was $2 and very heavy! Thanks, Henry Warbucks!

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Then we came home and sat there. And then….Hold on a second. Writing about this boring day is making me give birth to yawn triplets. I know, it’s shocking that Henry’s birthday wasn’t more action-packed. Don’t fret, Henrylovers: he probably just waited until I fell asleep before folding laundry and watching home videos of Hot Naybor Chris cutting the grass.

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Henry couldn’t decide where he wanted to have his birthday dinner and I was getting hungry so I made some cream of wheat for a snack and he got all bent out of shape. “OH I GUESS WE’RE NOT GOING OUT TO DINNER NOW!” And I was like:

a) YOU WON’T MAKE UP YOUR MIND

b) IT IS JUST CREAM OF WHEAT, WTF WHY DO YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME FEEL FAT?!

Conveniently, he decided where he wanted to go while I was eating my cream of wheat: Tom’s Diner.

Whomp whomp.

I mean, Tom’s is fine for a cheap lunch or greasy omelettes after a rough night at the Vasta (totally shady bar next door to Tom’s), but I was like, “This is your 5oth birthday bro.” Selfishly, I really wanted Italian food and was trying to psychically sway his decision more toward TILLIE’S but I am really trying to be more mindful of other people instead of (allegedly) making it all about myself. Forcing Chooch to go to a Mexican restaurant for his birthday lunch doesn’t count because I gave birth to him, so….

Needless to say, it was a real struggle for me not to shout bitchily, “TOM’S!? SRSLY!? UGH.”

“It’s cheap and we can walk there so I can have some beers,” Henry rationalized and I was just like, “Fucking fine.”

Trying to be good children and let Henry enjoy his day. It literally gave me a stomachache.

Like, bro. The least you can do is smile.

The “Henry Cut His Finger On His Birthday But I Don’t Know How Because I’m Too Self-Centered To Ask” shot. Also, maybe that’s a smile? Sort of?

 

The “Reading the Placemat Ads Because You Never Know When You’ll Need Your Chimney Cleaned” shot.

CHIMNEY CLEANED. That’s what they called in THE SERVICE.

Tom’s updated their menu since I was last there but the vegetarian options are still the same: grilled cheese. “moonshine cake” was written on the specials board and I was really excited when the waitress started by telling me it was lemon cake, but then I choked back bile when she got to the “dunked in moonshine” part. I just can’t with moonshine, sorry Appalachians. :(

The “Henry Bought Us Presents On His Birthday” shot.

(Obviously I have that Cure album, but this is the remastered version on vinyl, which I did not previously have. BUT NOW I DO BECAUSE HENRY HAD A BIRTHDAY!)

Then after Henry took his fourth nap, we went to some questionable ice cream place in McKees Rocks where it took us forever to order because some asshole couple who arrived 2 seconds before us ordered DINNER FOR LIKE 7 PEOPLE plus freezes and we were just like, “GO THE FUCK TO MCDONALD’S NEXT TIME, FUCCCCCCKKKKKKK.” They were walking through the parking lot right when we pulled in and Chooch suggested that we run them over and Henry was all, “Haha, they’re not going to take that long.”

FAMOUS LAST WORDS. Shoulda mowed those townies over.

 

The “Yelling At Chooch For Pretending To Be a Stripper On Some Pole In the Parking Lot of the Ice Cream Shop and Getting White Powdered Paint All Over His Pants and Hands and ‘You Can Just Ride Home In the Trunk, Boy!'” shot.

***

I just asked Henry how his birthday was and he said, “Fine…?”

And napping was his favorite part. “I would say peacefully except someone kept taking pictures of me.”

  One Response to “Henry Bombs & More: Birthday Edition”

  1. Those ice cream cones look amazing!

Say it don't spray it.

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