He’s Made it Four Years!

Chooch turned four yesterday by rolling out of bed and colliding with the nightstand.

But it was all uphill after that!

Since he has a birthday party coming up in two weeks, we decided to just give him some small things for his birthday. I bought him (notice I said I – I’m the best parent; Henry is a deadbeat!) some Batman stuff; the Friday the 13th remake; Diary of the Dead; and a fucking viking PlayMobile set, over which I’m currently suffering stabbing pangs of buyer’s remorse. Fuck you, PlayMobile! The outside of the box said it included something like 40 pieces, but it didn’t specify that 3/4 of those pieces rival the size of ANTS. It’s some goddamn BULLSHIT. I kept trying to hide it from him all day, and every time he was on the precipice of forgetting its existence, asshole Alisha would say, “Gee, Chooch.

Where did your VIKING SET go?”

I actually had a nightmare about that viking set. Worst purchase ever. OK, maybe not quite as bad as the cream I bought eleven years that was intended to make you lose weight once applied to your wrists. (It did not make me lose weight, so I went back to the pills I bought at GNC that made me black out.)

Janna joined us later for a Vanilla Pastry Studio circle jerk. Chooch wanted cupcakes from Shop n Save, and at that moment, I actually saw a little bit of Henry in him: poor taste and frugality. The horror.

I was like, “Son, this is as much my day as it is yours, lest you forget. And I’ll be damned if we’re eating stale lumps of Betty Crocker mix out of a plastic grocery store bakery container.”

All day, Chooch kept asking, “Is it still my birthday?” and it was kind of adorable. Which is a new thing for me, because usually he’s being a holy terror.

Henry burnt himself no less than 18 times lighting these, which made me happy because he had previously spent a good five minutes haranguing me for buying “too many” candles. I’m sorry, what? There’s no such thing as too many candles. (If Henry were writing this, that would say “to many.”)

There were no complaints as everyone ate themselves into a cupcake coma. THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT.

Look at her, thinking of ways to ruin my life. This was right before she extracted Chooch’s “bonus gift” from her purse….

A whistle! A motherfucking whistle! Who gives a four-year-old a WHISTLE? An asshole who hates the kid’s mother, that’s who!

Chooch REALLY likes knives. We were at IHOP last week and he asked to take his knife home with him. Chooch, giving new meaning to WWJD. (WHAT WOULD JASON DO.)

When Janna is around, Chooch is super good. She’s like a goddamn Chooch Whisperer. I keep trying to drop joint-custody hints around her, but I don’t think she’s quite picking up on it.

It was a good day. I think my favorite part was when he was watching his new Friday the 13th DVD, and very seriously said, “Whoa. She is really good at killing Jason.”

He was so well-behaved yesterday. I don’t think I had to lock him in his cage once!