In his general high octave whine, Chooch is demanding a refill in his cup.
Henry asks what was in it.
“Hot chocolate,” Chooch answers, right before deciding that I should get it for him instead. “Because she got it last time, and you will not know how,” he explains to Henry, in a tone alarmingly cross and indignant for such a small child.
“There’s not much your mother knows how to do,” Henry mumbles, pulling the milk from the fridge. “So it can’t be that hard.”
It feels good, laughing that hard.
There is so much snow here in Pittsburgh and it’s making my house feel like the duplex version of the fucking Overlook, but instead of a kid riding around on a tricycle chanting REDRUM, I’ve got a Chooch riding around on a tricycle chanting obscenities and, with just a roll of his eyes, evoking more chills than those creepy dead twin girls.
This is the perfect weekend to watch horror movies. What are some of your faves?