I was really giddy when I came home from work last night. Henry loves that. He really, really loves that. We were in the bathroom brushing our teeth and I was so slap-happy that I was stumbling all over the place, still wearing my little red kitten heeled shoes which clacked all over the blue tile floor. Henry kept shooting me annoyed glares in the mirror, which only caused me to laugh harder. I kept throwing my body into his back, hoping he’d gag on his toothbrush, but then I did it with so much hysterical force that I ricocheted off him and nearly fell backward into the tub. This of course incited a loud guffaw from me and Henry did that thing where he grits his teeth together real hard and threatens to kill me if I wake the baby. Henry is always the only guest not laughing at the mad tea party.
Afterward, we were in the bedroom. I was gettihng undressed for bed and he was getting dressed for work ("Opposing Schedules: How Erin & Henry Make it Work"). I was salivating all over myself because I couldn’t stop laughing. Henry at that point pushed past me and called me something I haven’t been called since seventh grade: a re-re.
I laughed even harder.
"I can’t get that song out of my head!" I yelled as I hung up my shirt, not bothering to fix the sleeves that remained half inside-out. I’m obsessed with "Making the Band 4."
"What song? ‘I’m a Big Asshole, Look at Me’?" Henry grumbled.
Why did that make me laugh so hard? I don’t know, but I fell against him and laughed with my head flung back. Eventually, I got myself all tucked in. Henry turned off the lamp and I screamed frantically. I’m scared of the dark. But he opened the bedroom door real wide on his way out to let the bathroom light flood in, shaking his head as he did so.
Somehow Chooch didn’t wake up. Hopefully, tonight will be just as fun. Right, Henry? Henry?