It wasn’t that bad when Chooch did this last week, because it was washable marker. But today it was paint. Same color, though. Your apparent penchant for blue is not unnoticed, Chooch. Please find other, cleaner ways to boast it.
I remember when I was pregnant with him, how everyone would harangue me about how I was in for it, how I had better pray that he didn’t have my temperament. My (lack of) patience. My weirdness. But I clung to the chance that he would be a mini-Henry: laid back, mellow, patient, rational, and calm.
He got Henry’s expressive eyebrows. Everything else is all me.
He’s been throwing these utterly horrific fits of bi-polar proportions. Say he bumps his head. He’ll start crying a little. Henry will pick him up and rub his head. This sets something off within Chooch’s brain –you can practically hear synapses snapping and crackling. His face will turn beet red and he’ll emit this shrill siren like he’s summoning Satan himself. Then he’ll laugh. Appearing confused that he’s laughing, he’ll start crying again, followed by an encore of the shrieking and a Damien-esque maneuver to rip off Henry’s face.
I just have to stand back and watch, all agog. I know what he’s feeling, having all those emotions puddle together and you’re so confused because they all try to come out at once and they’re elbowing and clawing to get in the front of the line.
“You know, it’s like those earth-shattering histrionics that I used to do,” I explained to my mom on the phone. She was silent, probably trying to measure her response accordingly, so I sighed and mumbled, “You know, all the stuff that I still haven’t grown out of.”
Hopefully, Chooch will figure out how to control that shit and then he can teach me.
10 Responses to “House of Sybils”
Choose Your Words Carefully
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aw. you have the cutest, coolest child in the world.
you def. have your hands full!!!!
but- you can handle it.
well, you and henry and his expressive eyebrows.
AND-excellent taste in socks. :)
It’s scary! I was like, “This is normal, right? Terrible twos and all that? PLEASE?” Lol.
My daughter + Your son= adorable baby pair.
screw you Angelina.
Screw her, indeed. She gets on my nerves.
why?
We have far too many dispassionate, mellow people around. We need more articulate crazies like you.
Stay psycho chooch! PSYCHO AND PROUD!!!
I was ok with that until Henry was like, “let me paint you a picture: Chooch is 16. He’s like, 6’2″, 200 pounds. Someone in school pisses him off—” and I was like, “OK! STOP! I GET IT!”
As long as he’s not spilling blood, he can stay psycho!
Hilarious!! What an awesome photo though.
I have to clarify that this happened on HENRY’S WATCH.
“Then he’ll laugh. Appearing confused that he’s laughing, he’ll start crying again, followed by an encore of the shrieking and a Damien-esque maneuver to rip off Henry’s face.”
That just made ME laugh!!
I can’t wait for you to see the little hellion!