Oh Honestly, Erin

I pulled Chooch away from his stupid “whatever it is he does on the computer with headphones on” for an entire 5 minutes BECAUSE I AM THE WORSTEST MOMMY IN THE WORLD. Literally he acted like I asked so much of him and honestly these teenage years are killing me dead, you guys. Killing me fucking deadzo. All I wanted was one good picture of us jumping across the street at the church for something I’m working on, not actually making him GO INSIDE THE CHURCH for MASS.

ALTHOUGH MAYBE THIS IS WHAT NEEDS TO START HAPPENING.

I mean, look at that face! The Pet Shop Boys could have used it for the cover of the What Have I Done To Deserve This single.

What else fun Erin&Chooch stories do I have to share…oh! Here’s one. We were walking down the street the other day and his friend’s little brother was outside. I think he’s like 3 or 4 or who cares. Anyway, he called out, “It’s Riley and the Blond Girl!” and this cracked me up because I think only HNC and his wife know my name out of everyone who lives on this street and I have lived here almost the longest, so that’s cool, being this popular. But also, the Blond Girl and not Riley’s Mom? Kills me.

Oh here’s a weird one. Last Friday, the radio in my bedroom was playing “Electric Avenue” and I almost knocked on Chooch’s bedroom door to tell him that the song he likes was on the radio but then I stopped at the last minute and thought, “No. It’s not this song. It’s that other song” and I couldn’t even remember how it went in my head, except that the word “stride” was in it and I was like, “OH WELL, IT WILL COME TO ME LATER PROBABLY” and I went back downstairs. A few minutes later, LITERALLY JUST A FEW MINUTES LATER, LIKE TWO SONGS LATER PROBABLY, I had to run back up to my room for something AND THE SONG I COULDN’T REMEMBER WAS ON! It’s that “Nothing’s Gonna Break My Stride” song from the 80s, so this time I *did* knock on Chooch’s door and I told him the whole story and then finished it with, “And now that song is on!!!”

Chooch just looked at me, sneered, and said, “Well, I do actually like Electric Avenue too so nice try.”

SEE THIS IS WHAT I DEAL WITH and as I type this, it occurs to me that he only talks to me this way because he has spent his formative years listening to me talk to Henry that way, so….good job, Blond Girl.

Then over the weekend, the same radio station played both songs again, just in reverse order, three songs apart from each other AND I FUCKING FLIPPED OUT. Also, this same station plays American Pie (one of my most hated songs) nearly every day and for what purpose?!!? I don’t understand how a radio station that’s supposed to be playing a mixed bag of oldies and current hits continuously plays the same old songs when there are like millions to choose from – you’re a fucking variety station! Does someone need to give them the definition of variety?! I only keep the radio on because it comforts me to hear wafting away up there in the distance while I’m working (Henry always marvels at how you can barely hear it downstairs but the moment one of my jams comes on – like “In The Air Tonight” – I will stop everything and holler, “STFU MY JAM’S ON!”

I guess it’s time to go back to playing Spotify at night, though because fuck that station, also the DJ in the morning is a real asshole IN MY OPINION.

Anyway, do you like our shirts!?! I made Chooch wear that one to coordinate with me. Mine is from Noo Works and his is from some alley boutique in Harajuku OMG wow we are cool people.

This was the “Winner” of all the pictures. It’s annoying because we can never jump in tandem.

Well, that’s all I got. I started watching “Feel Good” on Netflix and now I would rather drink my iced coffee (Henry bought himself an iced coffee maker for his birthday which is great because now he can use his birthday present to make me iced coffee, I love when I win other people’s birthdays) and watch that before passing out because it’s 875457 degrees in my house and I just exercised.

ETA: several hours I came up to go to bed and that fucking Break My Stride song was on again!!! Was it even played that much in the 80s?? WHY NOW?

Well guys, we made it all  the way to December before  the first dreaded CALL FROM THE SCHOOL occurred. I was in a meeting at the time of the call, but I listened to the voicemail immediately after and it was from, of all teachers, Chooch’s CREATIVE WRITING teacher. This is my favorite class! I mean, for him. My favorite class FOR HIM. And I thought that he had been doing well in it so I was pretty clueless as to why I was getting a call, what brand of opprobrium is he bringing upon of us now, but I figured it HAD TO HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH HIS MOUTH.

Ding ding ding.

In her voice mail, the teacher prefaced the negative news by saying  that his writing is wonderful, keeps getting better (I mean, LOOK AT WHO HIS MOMMY IS, you know lol), she really enjoys his presence in class, but…

That day in class, he said something inappropriate in the chat.

WHOOP THERE IT IS.

Since they’ve been doing school virtually, each class has a chat function and believe me you, I knew this was going to be bad news at some point.  Chooch is the Duke of Dischord, so I could only imagine how disruptive this would be in a classroom setting. He laughs way too much for someone who is “in class.” And I mean, his ass is cracking the fuck up at times.

Of course, she didn’t tell me in the voicemail what was said, and we ended up playing phone tag for about 30 minutes. In the meantime, I asked Chooch why his teacher would be calling me and of course he played dumb.

But then…

“Oh, hahahaha, I probably know why.” More giggles.

“WHAT DID YOU DO.”

“Well, in the chat, I said something about taking Ibuprofen.”

“…………….”

“….snorting Ibuprofen.”

WHY IS MY SON SO FUCKING SMART AND STUPID AT ONCE. I screamed, “why would you say that!??!” and he was like, “It was just a joke! Someone was saying they couldn’t stay awake and I said I snort Ibuprofen.”

Seriously, sometimes I just don’t know what he’s thinking and I guess that’s for the best.

“Why the fuck would you say that in a school chatroom, you dumbass? You know there’s always that one idiot who’s going to think that sounds like a good idea and next thing you know, crush Ibuprofen is the new Tide Pods, you stupid fucker!” I seethed. And it doesn’t even make sense anyway!

(GREAT, NOW I’M GOOGLING THIS SHIT BECAUSE—WAIT, DOES IT MAKE SENSE??)

(NO!! OF COURSE NOT!!)

Then I called Henry and screamed about this to him because I hate confrontational school bullshit.

“Why does he do this shit?” I wailed. “Now I have to explain to this broad that our son doesn’t actually have an OTC drug addiction.”

Anyway, she called me back and right away I said, “He told me what he said and he is an idiot. I’m so sorry.” She just laughed nervously and said that again, he’s great most of the time—

“—but he’s way too chatty,” I finished for her. We have been suffering through these conversations since the beginning of his school career. Literally, that kid!!! NEVER SHUTS UP.

ALWAYS HAS TO HAVE THE LAST WORD.

Apparently, she had to hold back Chooch and one of his pallies after class last week to talk to them about this issue and of course I had no idea about this. So I had to use my dwindling reserves of “charm” on this lady when really all I wanted to do was talk to her about my own experience in creative writing class when I was in high school because, you know, me me me.

600+ words later, I think that this issue is resolved and I shamed Chooch into being too scared to use the chat feature at all now – sike, nah – he still uses that bitch because if Know-It-Alls can’t be heard while muted, at least they can be seen.

Which brings me to the part of the story in which I shame Chooch for the above infraction by sharing a FUN FACT about him, especially because Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” has come up twice this past week, the most recent today when I was reading We Ride Upon Sticks and the video was referenced:

So that redhead is Tawny Kitaen and I dunno why her name has been seared upon my brain ever since I learned it in the 80s and then had my mind blown several years later when she became a co-host of America’s Funniest People and I made the connection that she was THAT WHITESNAKE BROAD.

What does this have to do with Chooch, you ask? Well, he has this little brown mole/birthmark on his butt (TMI? Well, maybe he should stop making stupid jokes in class!) and when he was a baby, I looked at it one day and officially dubbed it Tawny BUTTaen. And by officially, I mean that I haphazardly wrapped the announcement–like one of my signature shoddily-papered Christmas gifts–in my accidental Bobcat Goldthwait impression and punted it out of my mouth, pre-Christened with my giddy spittle, to an audience of no one.

Get it? Because Tawny is a synonym for brown and brown the color of the birthmark, and it’s on his bu—OK, you get it.

Now that Chooch is a teenager and not prone to streak through the house, I often forget that Tawny BUTTaen exists. But every now and then, I’ll remember and ask him how she’s doing, while choking on my Laugh Sandwich a la Mama Cass. He gets so mad, as if he doesn’t secretly think it’s the MOST BRILLIANT NAME FOR A BIRTH MARK EVER.

TAWNY BUTTAEN.

Oh man, here I go again.

(Fun fact about ME: Whitesnake’s “Is This Love” would 100% be played at the wedding reception I’ll never have.)

(Fun fact about this blog post: it was originally supposed to be a friday five but I got bored with writing after the first two bulletpoints, and frankly, who gives a shit.)

(Fun fact about fun facts: they’re usually not even really that fun.)

I guess today was technically Chooch’s last day of school? Obviously, schools had shut down in March due to COVID-19, and for the first several weeks, curriculum was at a stand still for Pittsburgh public schools. But once the online classes started, Chooch zipped right through it and finished early, and he did it all without me hovering (I had my stupid check-in calls and video chats to worry about, OK!?).

It’s hard to believe that he’s finally done with that school though. Look, it was convenient how it was only a few blocks away and he could walk there, and he ended up having some good relationships with some of the teachers (math, mainly) but I had a lot of issues with that place. Loved the principal though! But the gym teachers sucked, the art teacher was a big cunt (there was a new one for his final year though and he liked her!), the guidance counselor was worthless. And don’t even get Chooch started on the lunch ladies! Hoo boy, he had beef (lol) with them throughout his entire stint at this elementary school.

But now he’s on to (hopefully) greener pastures when he starts Pittsburgh SciTech in August! (Assuming schools will be OK to reopen by then…?) I’m sad that he’s growing up obviously but also really excited to be more involved in his new school (HEY YOU NEVER KNOW, PEOPLE CAN CHANGE!!!) and I know he’s looking forward to being challenged and being around new people.

This afternoon, his favorite teacher (the math one, natch) came by to give him his official graduation certificate thing, a gift bag of treats and gift certificates, and to shove this sign in our yard which Blake excitedly took a selfie with later on. He’s such a proud big brother, I guess, lol.

So yeah, it was a weird way to end the school year, and now he’ll probably be shell-shocked when he has to actually be in a real classroom again. But at least now we’ll be able to officially begin our summer of Breakfast Clubbin’! (Actually, I might wait a few more weeks because eating in a restaurant again has me skeeved out.)

OMG I’m a mom to high schooler, how did this happpppppppppppen!!!!!!!!!!?????????