Friday afternoon, I got a text from Henry that said Chooch got a 4.0, which is something that is more easily attainable for him now that the SHITTIEST ART TEACHER AROUND left and the school actually got a competent replacement who seems to be doing a great job because my kid went from loathing art to actually enjoying it again like he used to when when was much younger. That old teacher was SUCH A BITCH and gave him his first C ever last year because she grades subjectively, which is a bunch of bullshit for middle school.
(Plus, she didn’t like him for god only knows why. I was there in 6th grade for open house and she conveniently “had to go to a meeting” when we walked into her classroom. She was real fucking sketchy about it too.
So even though Chooch is always on the high honor roll, that broad’s stupid art class would usually drag him down. What a dumb bitch.
Anyway, when Henry told me the news, I was like, “Great now we’re going to have to take him to dinner and he’s going to pick something stupid like Eat n Park and if that happens, I’m not going. I should get to choose because I’m the reason he’s smart to begin with!”
“There it is,” Glenn mumbled when I finished my rant at work. “I knew you’d find a way to make this about yourself.”
I mean, duh.
And of course, the first place Chooch suggested was Eat n Park and I was like, “PLEASE PICK A BETTER PLACE, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!” and after considering it for a few seconds, he said, “Well, I do kind of want Italian….”
“OK COOL SO TILLIE’S IT IS!” I declared, and Chooch was like, “Ooh yeah, Tillie’s!” like this was the best idea he’s ever heard in his whole life and I gratuitously blew on my fingernails while reminding him that I’m the brains of the household.
I will use any excuse to go to Tillie’s though. I have never had a bad experience there – it’s cozy, the service is always wonderful, and they have the best gnocchi in town, you can go on and fucking fight me if you disagree.
For some reason, my family never ate here when I was growing up, and we lived semi-nearby. I actually had never even heard of it until my friend Heather took me here for my 19th birthday and I was HOOKED. It’s not a fancy restaurant by any means, and you’ll usually see a mix of people in hoodies and old men in sports coats, but the food makes you feel like the richest person. Do you know what I mean? Like you’re on vacation in actual Italy and some old broad is slinging some authentic noods on a plate and capping it off with a healthy ladle of family secret tomato sauce.
It’s just good, yo.
When Chooch was really little though, he didn’t like it here because it “stank.”
It was the spaghetti sauce he was smelling and it didn’t “stink” – it makes you feel like you are taking a nap on a soft ravioli after being tucked in by a layer of wet tomatoes…OK maybe that sounds weird, but that smell always makes me feel warm and comforted!
Henry got a new flannel, finally.
It was on sale at Penney’s. He’s thrifty.
I think Henry was just happy that we picked Tillie’s and not some place that has bicycle parking and a roomful of kombucha-speckled handlebar mustaches.
You know your heads are still in Korea when your son thinks the gnocchi looks like tteokbokki, so now he calls it potato tteokbokki. I was so happy to be shoveling these little potato pillows in my mouth but apparently my stomach can no longer take on as much as it used to be able to because I felt like I was going to burst when I was halfway through.
Chooch got fettucine alfredo (classic) and Henry got a personal pizza, which is always super good at Tillie’s. We had a really nice time together, so thank you, Child, for being a brainiac and giving us a reason to go to Tillie’s. Not that we needed a reason, but going to Tillie’s is always more fun when you’re celebrating something.
I found out the next day that when Chooch went to the bathroom, some guy was in there peeing with his pants all the way down to the floor and Chooch saw his ass and then had me doubled over in laughter when he gave me the painful recap. I love hearing about Chooch’s adventures in public restrooms.
I wish he would start a blog about it.
I look like a creep here but that’s fine. I can’t change my face, even though this morning I had a low self-esteem freak out and screamed about wanting to lose 30 million more pounds and having surgery to remove all of my weird parts and Henry said, “….so, your brain?” but I was thinking more along the lines of my entire face, but hey, that’s a (un-)wellness post for another day, I guess!
And on that note, I am going for a walk. I was off today because we were at the SuperM concert in Fairfax, VA last night and I have a lot of thoughts to sort through and wow, I just realized that I’m crying lol time to punch myself in the face.