Mayday, mayday. I’m here at Chooch’s school for something called Night at the Museum which was all a SICK RUSE but I’ll get to that in a bit.
I asked if I was going to be bored here and Henry was all “God yes, you’re always bored” while at the same time Chooch muttered, “Yeah. there won’t be any KPOP there, god forbid.”
But then I asked if there would be cookies and Chooch said probably so here I am.
TURNS OUT IT’S SOME EVENT FOR DORKY CHILDREN TO SHOWCASE THEIR NERDY SCIENCE PROJECTS AND EVERY TIME I WALK PAST ONE OF THEIR TABLES, THEY START TALKING TO ME.
I had to pretend to care about some bitch’s SEASHELLS.
WOE IS ME.
WHAT IS MY LIFE.
But then I was actually enrapt in some tiny child’s display on inertia* and was all OH TELL ME MORE, OH YOU DONT SAY and as we walked away, I said to Henry, “HE WAS SO CUTE!”
*LOL I just walked by and it was FRICTION not INERTIA so I guess I didn’t really care that much.
And under my breath, I creepily whispered, “Because he’s Korean!”
I’ve seen many foes here so far and it’s only been 15 minutes.
Chooch and I made it almost to the top of this staircase, ignoring Henry’s warnings of “Don’t go that way. Don’t go that way. You can’t go that way” and then when we looked up and saw the caution tape, it all started making sense.
There were witnesses.
Meanwhile in the cafeteria, they have a table of food set up, food from Ireland I guess? There were Irish potatoes which I hadn’t had since some kid brought them in to class when I was in elementary school. There were also birthday cake cookies and I wasn’t sure if they were just for kids so it became this big game of me whining about it and Chooch saying “Just go get one” until he finally threw his hands up, marched over to the table and yelled, “Can my mom have a cookie? She’s TOO AFRAID to ask” and everyone laughed at me.
Chooch found his friend Sharyn so we’re chilling with her grandma who is one HIP LADY. I like her a lot.
“She reminds me your mom,” I said to Henry. “But not as—-”
“—crass,” Henry finished as I was saying “abrasive.”
Some dumb geode-smashing experiment. They gave Chooch a hammer. I stood far away.
I just outed Chooch as a butterfly phobe in front of a cute broad from the Carnegie who brought insects for the kids to scream at and now a bunch of his peers are mocking him and he totally loves it.
Payback for outing me as cookie-taking scaredy-cat.
Ok I just learned about Islam from a Yemen family here and now I’m woke.
I asked Chooch why he didn’t contribute anything to this event, like some artifacts and a poster board about his fake Siberian heritage, and he just shrugged and said “because I didn’t know about it.”
He is so dense.
There is no Korean table here so I’m pouting.
Henry and the principal* just complimented each other’s beards but Henry pointed out that the principal’s is grayer. “I guess you have more stress in your life,” Henry laughed.
Oh you’re saying I need to up my game?
* (The principal knows us pretty well, it’s safe to say.)
“You should have made a Korean exhibit,” Chooch said.
Yeah, that would have looked legit. Some dumb Caucasian mutt sitting behind a table of red bean taffy, ttkeokbokki, and Kpop lightsticks, talking about kai bai bo and BIGBANG.
On the way home, Henry asked Chooch who the lady was at the concession stand.
“Why?” Chooch asked.
“Because she knew your name,” Henry said, with a silent but implied, “and that makes me nervous.
“Because he’s NOTORIOUS,” I sang, and when no one responded, I said, “That was supposed to be Duran Duran.”
And still no one said anything.
Turns out the concession lady was the mom of one of Chooch’s friends. I knew it definitely wasn’t MISS DEBBY THE MISERABLE LUNCH LADY because she actually smiled at Chooch.
(I’m trying to get Chooch to blog about his years-long war with MISS DEBBY.)
Anyway. Now I’m home. It was fine. The kids did a good job I guess, ugh—THE PAIN! I feel like I need to flip off an elderly nun now or something.
ETA: Henry just pulled up my blog on his phone and said, “Oh great, I can’t wait for all the parents to read this” and I was like “WTF, I was actually really nice! I said nice things about Sharyn’s grandma and that Yemen lady, and—”
“Erin, you called the one girl with the sea shells a bitch, and the rest of the kids dorks and nerds, and that was just in the very beginning!”
But I mean, that’s not super bad.
(That seashell girl was super pushy with her seashells though. She was all, “Pick the up for a closer look.” Bitch, you pick them for a closer look! UGHHHH.)