Jun 15 2008
Sappy Father’s Day Shit
When I gave birth to Chooch, Henry slept at the hospital every night. Maybe it was because he was afraid he’d get his nads lopped off if he didn’t, but it was still a fair indication of how he was going to be as a father: very hands-on and always there. You know, the kind of father I never had.
Chooch and Henry are attached at the hip. They go grocery shopping together, they practically live at Target, and sometimes Chooch even gets to go to Henry’s workplace with him. (He loves it there because it’s a juice warehouse.) Henry does all the hard stuff, like cook actual well-balanced meals for him (as opposed to my popcorn-for-breakfast and freezepops-for-lunch methodology). He gets him strapped into the carseat in less than a minute without pinching skin. (It takes me three times a long and I usually hurt myself.)
Henry makes sure I don’t teach Chooch knife-throwing and flame-eating; that I don’t teach him how to build bombs and invent creative obscenities. Henry makes sure Chooch likes and respects other people and never runs out of diapers and juice. Henry never leaves him in the car with the windows up or snorts rails of coke off his ass. Henry’s catchphrase is "Don’t listen to your mother."
Henry has the daunting task of being the responsible parent. Henry is the father I never had.
While it remains to be seen if Henry and I will live happily ever after, at least I know Chooch will always have a dependable dad.
Happy Father’s Day to all you dad-dudes out there.
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happy father’s day henry!
you really are a great dad.
erin, this was a really sweet entry,
and honestly it’s awesome that you’re able to capture these things so well in words for all of us.
and- even more so for chooch. <3
P.S the picture is perfect.
The picture is beautiful. I wish my boys had even a drop of what Henry is in their father, who really was nothing more than a sperm donor, to put it mildly.
Chooch is a lucky little boy, for having Henry and for having you, too.
Maybe Chooch can tell me what’s so great at Target, because I just don’t get it. We’ve got one in walking distance from our house and I just avoid it as often as I can.
The funniest thing is that even though Henry and Chooch are “joined at the hip”, Hoover still calls him “that dumb baby.”
Target is just like, one notch up from Wal-Mart, is all. I don’t mind it, but I hate Wal-Mart.
fuck u!
Anytime, bro!
Beautiful picture and post.
Awww, look at the dirt under Chooch’s nails. I know I’m not supposed to notice that but it’s so endearing!
His fingernails are perpetually dirt-packed. Boys!
Yay for Henry! About time somebody got a great dad.
I agree! Wish I had one.
What an ace picture!!!
I really like Henry.
I’m glad:) He really likes you too, you know.
I’m gonna try hard to keep him.