Sometimes I just feel like sharing old stories up in this piece and, well, I can because I’m the Queen Bitch of this Domain. Tonight, I chose this one from 2011 (2011!!) because Chooch was so little and angelic-looking back then plus it really illustrates how much respect we have for Henry in this household.
Also, getting locked out of the house is kind of just what we do around here.
Goddammit, all I wanted to do was go for a nice, leisurely family stroll around our crappy town, but dum-dum Henry left the keys in the house and started flipping out about how it was my fault because I rushed him out of the house.
I was like, “Why can’t we just go for a walk and worry about this later?” which apparently was not a Great Idea based on the look of utter incredulity Henry flashed at me.
Chooch and I carried on like cackling assholes while Henry tore apart the garage for suitable items to MacGyver a battering ram. I mean, I guess if he hot-glued together all of his old porn VHS tapes from the SERVICE, he might have something to go on.
He ignored my suggestions of calling the landlord or heaving a cinder block through the window and instead considered using a can of gasoline to burn down the front door.
I’m surprised he didn’t go next door to ask Hot Naybor Chris for a breaking and entering consultation, considering those two once helped the gas man break into our neighbor’s house in order to shut off his gas before our house exploded.
Yeah, this has promise.
“What? I coulda done it. If only I had remembered to eat my individually-wrapped prunes today.”
“NOW I HAVE HEDGECLIPPERS! THESE WILL HELP! I WILL MANICURE THE WEEDS INTO SILHOUETTES OF MY REPUBLICAN HEROES WHILE STARING LONGINGLY INTO OUR FRONT WINDOW.”
These are some of the things Henry said while Chooch and I buzzed around him like flies on a bear:
- THAT’S ENOUGH!
- YOU’RE A LOT OF FUCKING HELP.
- GO SOMEWHERE AND PLAY!
- THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT. I DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO GO FOR A WALK!
- FML FML FML FML FML
- YEAH, THIS IS REAL FUCKING FUNNY.
- AND I JUST KNOW I’M MISSING “SHE’S CRAFTY.” MOTHER!
- YOU ASSHOLES CAN JUST STAY OUT HERE! I’LL FUCKING WALK TO WORK. AT LEAST I HAVE THOSE KEYS.
Oh God, Chooch. DON’T POKE THE BEAR!
…or KICK the bear. Henry almost gave Chooch “orphan” status after this.
Meanwhile, I found this fucker in the garage. WTF kind of creepshow is this!? I wish I had had it for my Murder Desk at work.
I was trying to chronicle this episode from all angles, which did not please the man one bit. He made like he was going to grab my phone off me and beat me with it, enlightening me on what it must be like to work for TMZ.
After fifteen minutes, Henry succeeded in prying open the window with a pair of pliers. Now you know how to break into my house and steal our cats. Seriously, it’s all we’ve got in there. Cats galore.
Just don’t forget to bring a small child to catapult through the window. (I mean, at least he’s going IN a window and not falling OUT of a window, right?)
You know that fucker is going to go to school tomorrow and tell his teacher about how his burglar parents made him shimmy up the side of a skyscraper.
Moments later, the house keys came whaling through the window straight at Henry’s face. Chooch rules.
Reassembling the window.
And he did it all so he could go on a walk he did not want to go on in the first place. In this picture, I think he’s texting his boss: OMG I IS A HEROE. I NEED DAY OFF.