To: Internet; From: Erin’s iPhone

 

Chooch wrote this to Corey on the back of his school picture without any coaxing from me. (He did ask me how to spell “uncle”, though. I was going to lie and spell “ulcer” but Chooch is too good at reading to fall for that.)

This was Chooch on Monday morning before school. Shit, I wish I felt that good on Monday mornings. The general consensus is: It must be the pants.

OMG I found this picture last night when I was doing totally 100% work-related shit at work. I loved it so much that I printed it out at home and now I need to make an appropriate frame for it, maybe send some copies to my clown-lusting friend Kendahl.

God, it just fills me with so much joy, like a bellyful of pornographic jam.

 

To conclude, Henry, Chooch and I went to Eat n Park for dessert on Sunday night. By the register, there was a stack of used books, the proceeds of which benefit Children’s Hospital. Chooch and I lunged for the same book in tandem, some “Things to Make and Do” piece of wonderment from 1970. I wanted it for the illustrations, Chooch wanted it because it’s full of projects for me to fail at.

There was no set price on it, just a donation, but Henry started mouthing off to us about not having any cash, so the manager asked, “Is this for him?” and gestured at Chooch. When I said yes, he waved me off and said, “Then don’t worry about it. I got it.”

I’m always startled when people do nice things.

Anyway, thanks to that Eat n Park dude, I now have instructions on how to make racial puppets and match my shirt and socks to my hair color.

Meanwhile, I’m really getting into the holiday spirit for once! I’m excited for Thanksgiving, which is extremely fun for me because I get to scour the Internet for pretentious, gourmet dishes full of exorbitantly-priced ingredients which will force Henry to rub elbows with yuppies in speciality markets for some tiny rock of $25 French cheese and a spice he can’t pronounce but can read the price tag very clearly.

To me, that’s what Thanksgiving is all about. Putting Henry to work.

Wait…that’s every day.

Oh well, I’ll think of something later.

What’s your favorite thing to eat on Thanksgiving? (Other than turkey; I can’t get behind turkey.)