Incredibly, Chooch agreed to an impromptu photo shoot today when I came home from work and didn’t even ask for money or Skylanders in return. And I know exactly why.

Chooch has a “girlfriend” apparently. She’s someone from his class and before school ended, they exchanged Instagram names. So now he’s all about pictures of himself, so that he can post them and then tag her to see if she’ll say anything. Usually it’s things like, “You’re weird.”

So he was like, “Yeah let’s do this thang.”

His go-to pose.

His hair combined with his loud mouth make it easy to keep tabs on him when he’s out and about.

Obligatory Flock of Seagulls shot.

In other news, taking in-focus photos is becoming increasingly harder for me to accomplish because my eyesight is getting so horrible but I still haven’t made an appointment to get them checked because I LIVE DANGEROUSLY. Also because I constantly forget to do adult things.

Daddy was so happy when he dropped us off because he didnt have to go. We were in line for an 1hr and 2 cars went in a 1 way lane like right toward each other and it was crazy and then some broad was talking to us about stuff. And I had garbage in my hand when the garbage dude came by and I had to chase him in front of EVERYONE!

But then another garbage dude came by and I was so embarrassed.

1ST we saw Nick Santino. Kellen Quinn was watching it and the girls in front of us saw him first and then 3 seconds later everyone saw him. I liked his music it was cool and he did a cover of Nirvana.

Kellen said “F***!” and Nick said “That’s a f****** bad word Kellen.”

2nd We saw The Summer Set and first they played Maybe Tonight. I sang along to every song but it was the song Legendary when Pittsburgh f***** up and didn’t sing the part. Legendary was the last song and I was so happy. I had to pee so I went to the bathroom with mommy because I didn’t know where the bathroom was. And when I went in the bathroom Josh the guitarist for The Summer Set was in there and if it was Brian Logan Dales the singer I would be like OMG WOW WOW OMG. So when we went back upstairs we lost our spot so we went in the back to watch Sleeping With Sirens. Oh yeah almost forgot when during The Summer Set Brian said look around around you and I waved at some girl. Oh yeah and when Kellen came out for Sleeping With Sirens everyone screamed and my ears started to bleed.  Then I got 2 shirts and McDonald’s since it was right next to the Altar Bar.

Oh yeah it was my first time at the Altar Bar and it was fun.

I felt so bad for Chooch at Warped Tour last summer, because he loves The Summer Set so much (see one of his guest posts here from two years ago!) and he ended up being so sick that day that he could barely enjoy it. So when I saw on Kellin Quinn’s Instagram that his band (Sleeping With Sirens) was going to do a limited-date, small venue acoustic tour and they were taking The Summer Set with them, I knew that would be the perfect birthday present for Chooch. But then I saw the venue for Pittsburgh was the Altar Bar, which is pretty small and SWS typically sells out bigger venues than that, so I sat at my desk at work and made sure I bought tickets the exact second they went on sale. And it’s a good thing too, because that bitch sold out fast.

But then I had anxiety, because what if it was a bad idea. Sold out shows are a bitch to contend with for adults, let alone when you have a nine-year-old in tow. “But it’s acoustic,” I reminded myself. “It will just be a roomful of hysterical teenaged girls.”

Probably not too hazardous.

But then I had different anxiety, because what if the day rolled around and Chooch was like, “Well…I’d rather just stay home and hang out with the neighborhood kids.” Because he’s fickle that way.

To my surprise, he actually suggested waking up at 7am and getting there “early.” I mean…Sleeping With Sirens is a popular band, but not THAT popular. I told him we’d get there about an hour before doors opened to ensure that we could try and get a good spot. I’ve been to the Altar Bar enough times to know that there is a small area with banquet-type seating off to one side near the stage, and my hope was to get there early enough to snag a spot over there so that Chooch could stand on the seat in order to see.

Henry dropped us off at 5:3o and Chooch and I walked down an alley to get to the back of the line, which had already snaked around the block. Motherfuck.

Standing In Line

The line was relatively uneventful, no one was being unruly, etc. We all just kind of sat around on a sidewalk and prayed for time to speed up. Around 6:00, everyone stood up and the line began moving, like someone had sounded a cowbell and we all obediently rose and moved forward. Now that we were all standing, the mom in front of us took this as her opportunity to strike up conversations with everyone around her. She could have been Robin’s sister, plucked right of the 70s and dropped down in front of us in 2015. She had straw-like hair in a multitude of ginger hues and was rail-thin; her voice came out on a bed of gravel while she chain-smoked Marlboros and I was bracing myself to hate her with the smoldering heat of Snooki’s skin after an hour in the tanning bed.

I feel confident that her house is full of macrame, earth-toned afghans and beaded curtains. 

“Is that your brother?” she asked me, while gesturing toward Chooch with Burning Cigarette #17.

I hit “recall” on all of the catty judgments I was mentally inserting in my Ginger Mom slam book. This broad could stay. And then she and Chooch had some awkward exchange about how they both like The Summer Set while he made SOS eyes at me behind her back. Shit got weird with her a little later but I’ll reserve that story for this week’s bullet point post because I don’t want it to stink up the memory of Chooch’s good night.

Several staff members walked around and got everyone hooked up with their age appropriate wristbands. They were checking IDs for the 21+ wristbands and when they got to Chooch, one of the guys said, “I don’t think I need confirmation that you’re under 21 buddy, unless you have some kind of Gary Coleman condition.” Ginger Mom and I were the only ones who laughed at that because everyone around us was too young to know who Gary Coleman is. GOD THAT WAS DEPRESSING.

Doors opened at exactly 6:30 and everyone entered the Altar Bar swiftly and without incident, thanks to staff being on the ball with the pre-wristbanding.

Inside, Pre-Show

Once we were inside, I grabbed Chooch’s hand and we ran over to where the seats are, which is kind of like two booths forming a right angle. The one booth-seat-thing is right near the stage, while the other one …. oh fuck it, here’s a diagram that I drew just for your sake, Blog:

The crowd was already about 20-heads deep in front of the stage, and the first booth-thing was claimed, but the second one had a spot open right in the back, perfect for Chooch to stand on and not worry about blocking anyone behind him. Also, we had a perfect view of the closed-off area next to the stage, so we got to see the bands before they walked out on stage.

Two moms were sitting on the other end of the booth, and I got to watch as the one slowly and painfully texted with her daughter, who was upset that she wasn’t as close to the stage as she wanted to be, and it’s not fair that so-and-so was closer because SHE likes Sleeping With Sirens way more than so-and so, OMG! Mom was like, “Everyone knows that the number one rule for concerts is first come, best spot. You are fine where you’re standing. There are a lot of people further back than you. There is not such thing as fair. This is real life.” DANG MA, ALL THAT TOUGH LOVE IS GONNA BREAK A PHONE.

Meanwhile, the skater douche who had the other side of the booth kept popping up onto the back of it, and I just knew that as soon as the show started, he was going to plant his ass there and block our view. And, he did. He turned around every once in a while and I tried to claw out his eyes with my icy glare. Fucking dick!

The blonde ponytail belongs to the slow-texting mom.

Nick Santino

Nick Santino was the opener, and once I was able to verify that Chooch could see even with that motherfucker propped up in front of us, I tried to tuck away my ire because this night was all about Chooch and as long as he could see the stage, that’s all that mattered. Besides, there were several large screens across the room from us so anytime I felt the urge to actually see what was going on, I could just look there.

Chooch’s first real concert was Pierce the Veil at the Chameleon Club in Lancaster when he was 6, but I think this was a much better experience for him. His attention span is definitely better, so he was pretty focused on Nick Santino’s set, except for when he looked over to his left and realized that Kellin Quinn was standing in the doorway, watching Nick from the side of the stage. Chooch elbowed me and pointed, and eventually one of the little girls next to us also spotted him and then an excited murmur spread like scene-fire around our area as all of the girls began having hysterical fits of unrequited feels. I have to admit though that the general consensus was to be chill about it so that Kellin wouldn’t be bothered. There were several girls that shrieked his name and basically all of them (there were about 30 who had surfed their way over to our corner) were trying to take clandestine pictures of the poor guy who was honestly just trying to support his friend on stage.

Chooch thought this was hilarious and kept laughing and rolling his eyes. I wanted to tell him THAT COULD BE YOU SOMEDAY but I’m trying not to pressure him. Sigh.

(Nick Santino was kind of boring to me, you guys. Although, he did a pretty nice cover of Nirvana’s “Teen Spirit” which I enjoyed. “Guys, he really did say ‘albino.’ I googled it!” one of the girls near us yelled to her friends, holding up her phone. DOUBLE SIGH.)

Sometime in between Nick Santino and The Summer Set, I was popping a piece of Mentos gum into my mouth right as the Foo Fighters began playing over the sound system and I sadly realized that there was no one there who would appreciate this irony. Maybe the miserable dad standing next to me, but ew—stranger danger.

The Summer Set

Chooch was stoked by the time Summer Set came on and it melted my cold, black heart to see his little lips moving along to all of the words. They covered Ed Sheeran’s “Sing” at one point and Chooch LOVES Ed Sheeran, so he furiously dug his phone out of his pocket and recorded the whole song.

BLESS HIS FUCKING HEART.

He never took his eyes off that stage, except for when he was grinning at me and making power-fist motions when certain songs happened. He ain’t no part-time fan, ya’ll. He knows the discography.

^^ This is why I wanted to get there early. No way was I standing in the middle of that with a nine-year-old.

I have to admit that while I would probably never listen to them if not for Chooch, they are actually really great live. They kept my attention and also Chooch’s, which is really no small feat. I won’t go into detail because Chooch said he wants to guest-post, but I definitely was glad that I was able to get us tickets to this because he honestly seemed to genuinely appreciate it, and that’s amazing because Chooch might not be spoiled in the traditional sense where we rain down money and toys and electronics upon him, but he is certainly spoiled when it comes to experiences, so sometimes he reacts pretty blasé about things, which drives me nuts. Like, dude, you’re at an amusement park, why are you scowling?! Things like that have been known to happen from time to time and then Henry and I will start yelling at him for being ungrateful, which always makes me laugh because it sounds like I’m yelling at myself.

So I had a fear that we would get there and he would just be like, “Yeah, so?” But no—he knew he was experiencing something good and I could tell that he was taking it all in.

Plus, girls. He is ALL ABOUT THE GIRLS these days, and he got quite a bit of attention from them.

Chooch will probably deny this vehemently, but during the last song (“Legendary,” which made Chooch yell, “YES!” while hugging himself because: “I knew it, Mommy! I knew they’d play this last. I knew it.”), I for sure saw his eyes shining with tears. He is totally my son.

Sleeping With Sirens

Chooch wanted to just leave after The Summer Set, but I convinced him to stay for a few SWS songs. I used to really like this band about 5 years ago, and it’s not that I don’t like them anymore, but Kellin Quinn annoys me sometimes and I have seen them enough times to know that he’s probably going to sound eh, so-so, OK. However! I do like it when he sings acoustically and I felt that we’d be remiss if we didn’t stick around for a little bit. So after The Summer Set, I took Chooch downstairs so he could pee (he ended up being in the bathroom at the same time as one of the The Summer Set guys and was completely cool about it!) and then we went back upstairs and staked out a spot in the back of the room, where we prepared to have our ears shredded by the shrieks of 600 fan-gasming girls. And as expected, it sounded like Michael Jackson in Japan when Kellin Quinn stepped on that stage.

Luckily, the second song they played was my favorite, so we ended up leaving after 4 songs total, and I didn’t feel bad about it.

The crowd was annoying and it was a real sweat box in there, and not sound like some stupid VISA commercial, but seeing Chooch genuinely enjoying himself and, let’s face it, being a little starstruck when he saw Brian Logan Dales, was totally worth and I would (probably) do it all over again. I’m thankful that 99% of the bands he likes are at least in the same scene as most of the stuff I listen to, so it’s really not as excruciating as it would be if he was into 5SOS or Justin Bieber or whatever other prefab, manufactured pop band out there right now.

And if he did like that type of music? Oh well, I guess I would still support him.

(And by that I mean have Henry go with him!)

I am so grateful that Chooch and I got to spend a few hours together without fighting. Because that’s usually what happens when two people are so much alike: BICKER CITY.

***

I’ll end this with a picture of Chooch and The Summer Set from last year’s Warped Tour. He actually had a fever when we were there, oops.

It’s Henry’s 50th birthday! So here are 50 things that Chooch and I love about that big old mustachioed dumdum. (Chooch wrote the title of this, btw.)

Chooch’s 25:

1. He bitches when I  break my headphones: He says I cant get another pair, even though he buys me more.
2. He buys me stuff: He is such a prince.
3. He does stuff with me: He’s super nice.
4. He does stuff for mommy: He is a prince.
5. He loves us: He doesn’t love anyone else but us Oh yes, almost forgot he loves all his family members.
6. He buys us food: So we don’t starve to death.
7. He’s easy to make fun of: Like the times we go on his Instagram.
8. He cares about our health: When we are sick or hurt he rushes home from work or just gives me medicine.
9. He never leaves us: Yeah, he might get a little annoyed at us but he doesn’t leave us.
10. He’s never scared: We always hide from him and try to scare him, but he’s never scared.
11. He is smart: He knows a lot about nature at the cemetery.
12. He is strong: He was in the Service so of course he is a strong independent man.
13. He is practically a hipster: Don’t ask, of course you should know. (Hint: His Beard)
14. He takes us to concerts: Even though he effing hates it.
15. He yells at us: Its funny when he said SHUT THE DOOR!
16. He takes us to Ice Cream shops: Even though he has to get his pants on when he’s comfortable on the couch.
17. He teaches me stuff: Such as how to ride a bike, and how to swim.
18. He sometimes is too scared to go in haunted houses: He usually protects us.
19. He is too scared to go on rides in amusement parks: He might hate amusement parks.
20. He protects us from almost dying: He always protects us from scary drunk guy who walks on our street.
21. He gives directions: To very hard things me and mommy are bad at.
22. He fixes stuff: When mommy or me break something he usually fixes it.
23. He’s not drunk: He doesn’t drink TOO much beer a day.
24. He cleans stuff: When he breaks a glass cup or I puke on the floor he cleans it.
25. His Frowns: He’s famous for his frowns.

Erin’s 25:

1. He irons my clothes for me so that I don’t cry because I melted another favorite shirt or the entire house.
2. He procures fruit for me!
3. He’s not a poser: he doesn’t try to dress “cool” when he goes to concerts.
4. He has an extensive collection of Faygo uniforms. (Sometimes this is even what he wears to concerts because what does he care.)
5. He’s not afraid of emasculating himself by drinking SHANDY every now and again even though it’s not REAL BEER.
6. He takes any DIY idea I throw at him and does it better. (LIKE MY GET STOKED SIGN!)
7. He goes along with all of my photoshoot ideas, even if it means wearing makeup or a tutu.
8. He makes me lavender-flavored food & makes really great iced coffee for me even though he is NOT a coffee-drinker.
9. He supports my serial killer greeting card side business.
10. He pretty much lets me do whatever I want as long as it doesn’t involve drugs or other guys’ weeners.
11. He is super good at cooking with seitan and tofu even though he enjoys feasting on animals.
12. He used to like fishing but then we started dating and I was like *PETA!* *TEARS!* *MURDERER!* *BAD MAN!* so now he doesn’t go fishing anymore.
13. He LOVES when people need directions because he’s a professional driver and knows all the best routes around town.
14. He always has time to help his mom.
15. He always has my back, like when the Catholic moms at Chooch’s old school ganged up on me. (“Well, if they don’t want you to write about them being assholes, then they shouldn’t act like assholes!”)
16. Sometimes, in the dark, he looks like Bo Brady!
17. He got my initial tattooed on his finger because I told him to.
18. He’s OK with the world revolving around me.
19. He taught me to like vegetables because he felt that, as a vegetarian, I should be eating more than just pizza and grilled cheese.
20. He probably knows about more bands than your dad, whether he wants to or not.
21. He’s really good at cutting bangs. (Should I get bangs again?)
22. He said hi to Jonny Craig one time, lol.
23. He is so good at crafts and sewing and basic domestic skills, that you would think his mom was a Home Ec teacher back in the day.
24. He LOVES when people ask him about the Ted Nugent show in the 1980s.
25. HE WAS IN THE SERVICE. (I don’t care if Chooch already said it. This is an important thing.)

Now I kind of wish I hadn’t shared this with Chooch because I could have easily gone on for another 25, ugh! Like how he entertains my tradition of having Xmas cemetery picnics, takes me all over for concerts even though he typically hates the bands, and he eats funnel cake off the ground because by golly he PAID for it!

I had a horrible day while we were going to Sarris Candy’s.

We were having a normal day until mommy was hungry and wanted to go somewhere so she asked Chris and Monica. Monica said Serena’s so she started this horrible day. First of all daddy and mommy were fighting about that he didn’t want to go to Serena’s even though he did and mommy said that I don’t even like Mexican food even though I said it was alright. This is what its like being in the backseat while they fight: It is dreadful, unhappy, ugly, not funny, annoying, stupid, and not surprising.

So we went back and forth from home to Canonsburg and then Serena’s (It was closed) then back to Sarris and I fell asleep so I don’t know what else happened. When I woke up we were at Mad Mex (By our house. We drove 90mins to somewhere to eat that’s 10mins away.

). I had a Kiddo Burrito. It was huge!

I didn’t eat it all but I had half. It was freezing in there so I complained that it was freezing. Then at the end I wanted a Sopapilla but I got a Brownie Sundae basically because it was a brownie with ice cream and chocolate fudge. Thanks a lot MONICA! Oh and after that on the way home mommy said she needed to exercise. I said “No you don’t, Mommy.” She thought I was being nice because she wasn’t fat. But the reason why I said that was because she was DRUNK!

ERIN’S VERSION: This all happened because Henry is insensitive to my needs and made some asinine rule where 90% of non-chain restaurants are closed on Sundays. (Even Yelp was like, “Yeah, good luck with that.”) And then he gets snippy with me when I can’t find addresses fast enough and then accuses me of lying about a diner we passed but IT WAS A DINER AND IT WAS OPEN. He was all, “EVEN IF IT EXISTED, YOU WOULD FIND SOMETHING WRONG WITH IT SO I AM NOT TURNING AROUND.” And then CHOOCH is on some fucked up frat boy feeding schedule where he only wants to eat ramen and bowls of cereal at 10PM so he was in the backseat wailing about why did we even HAVE to go to dinner because he wasn’t hungry and just wanted to go shopping for Skylanders and we’re horrible parents for attempting to put basic nourishment over frivolous video game accessories. So don’t think he didn’t contribute to the verbal slayings!

Also, he named this blog post on his own and I think it’s JUST A BIT HYPERBOLIC, but what do I know about that.

The funniest part of this whole thing is that I wasn’t even really hungry. I WAS JUST IN A BAD MOOD LIKE ALL DAY.

IDIOT HENRY’S VERSION: No comment. [He’s still pissed that we ended up not going to Sarris, because “they have the best rum raisin.” Well, I’m sorry but we were all in a sour mood by then and I’m not walking into a magical candy factory under our black, vitriolic cloak like some gang of madcap cartoon villains!]

Chooch and I were on our own last Saturday morning. Henry had Judy Obligations, so we took MY* car to the cemetery so Chooch could ride his bike and I could fake-jog**.

*(Don’t worry; I’ll eventually tire of this.)

**(I can run for 2 miles and then I automatically stop without even trying to see if I have anything left in me, because running is boring to me.)

Right away, I was annoyed. There was another car there, parked near where I always park (I’m the ONLY person at this particular cemetery 99% of the time because it’s not as “cool” as some of the other ones in Pittsburgh, I guess. But I’ve been a regular here for 15 years and even though I sometimes go to the more popular ones, Uniondale will always have my heart. <3 So when I saw this car, my immediate reaction was GFTO! But then I saw they were Elders, so it was very possible that they were actually there visiting a grave; I gave them a pass.

Then we thought a ghost was there because we saw what we thought was an apparition, but it turned out it was just the landscaper kicking up dirt. After we parked, the first order of business was getting the bike out of the trunk. I kept pressing the trunk button on my key fob and nothing was happening. I got back in the car and started searching for a trunk release button in there, but all I saw was the hood release and other things that I didn’t want to touch.

Basically, I spent 30 seconds on this Rubik’s Cruze before using my Phone a Henry option.

He was at the doctors with his mom and I could tell he was trying to act like he wasn’t annoyed that I was yelling at him on the other end, because I go from, “Huh…I can’t get the trunk open” to “I’M GOING TO COME TO WHERE YOU ARE AND WASH THIS CAR WITH YOUR ARTERIAL SPRAY IF YOU DON’T FUCKING HELP ME GET THIS TRUNK OPEN NOW MOTHERFUCKER.” Meanwhile, Chooch was just standing there calmly, saying things like, “We can do this, Mommy. We can figure this out.” When all Henry was saying, “There’s a button on the key fob. Then I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know why. Push the button. Are you pushing the button? It works on my* key fob.”

*(Yeah, he thinks he’s so great because he got his own set of keys for MY car.)

I hung up on him of course and decided to instead Google, “How do I open the trunk on a 2014 Chevy Cruze?” because the manual SAID NOTHING. Yes, I looked in the manual! GOD. And while this was going on, I happened to turn around just in time to see some young hipster couple strolling around with armfuls of vegetation that they were casually pulling off trees, presumably to garnish their artisanal cocktails later that afternoon. UGH THIS MADE ME EVEN MORE MAD GET OUT OF MY CEMETERY NO WAIT HELP ME OPEN MY TRUNK FIRST.

While I was trying to read all of these idiotic posts on some forum, Chooch said, “Found it” and just like that, the trunk popped open. I guess there’s a release on the outside of the car, but it only works if the car is already locked. (I checked, so don’t even think about breaking into my trunk!) Turns out I need to take my dumb key fob back to the dealership and have it reset, and what I mean by that is that I’m swapping mine out with Henry’s and then he can deal with it.

And we had no accidents or other mishaps that resulted in blood loss! These are my favorite kinds of Henry-less outings.

I am so thankful no one was around to record Chooch & me struggling to put his bike back in the trunk (or as I call it: “The Nail Biting Conclusion To Figuring Out How To Open the Trunk”). We are barely-functioning cripples without Henry. Chooch was like, “We got this, don’t give up!” and, after having a minor rage blackout which left me with visions of pulling a tombstone out of the ground and bashing myself in the head with it, I was like, “Well, I guess this is your bike’s new home, Chooch. Say good bye to it. Or….we can all just stay here forever. BECAUSE WHY BOTHER.” I was just about to curl up into the Fetal Position of Defeat when Chooch moved the handle bars a certain way and we were able to shove that two-wheeled bitch into the trunk like we were regular wiseguys and the bike was a fucking snitch.

Chooch is a HERO!

I think it got my heart rate up more than the run. I HATE FIGURING THINGS OUT.

A few days later, Chooch and I were on our own AGAIN, this time it was just a simple walk down the street to CVS where I needed to get nail polish remover and I could hear Henry calling out the front door, “JUST nail polish remover!” and then I proceeded to spend $20 because it’s CVS. Anyway, Chooch’s favorite thing to do at CVS is read every single greeting card they have (he has always been super into greeting cards, so any future broad that dates him is going to get a card for every occasion). The card aisle is near the magazines, so as we were walking down it, he stopped and screamed, “JEFFREY DAHMER!” and then ripped this murder publication off the rack and started naming all of the criminals he recognized on the cover, which was most, so I felt simultaneously proud and worried.

“Oh, and Ted Bundy. Obviously,” he was saying just as some old woman nervously walked past us.

He might be fairly desensitized to this shit since he’s grown up picnic’ing in cemeteries, watching horror movies, and listening to his parents talk about the latest serial killer greeting card they made, but it’s counterbalanced with such an extreme love for animals and one sane parent (and Minecraft?) that I don’t think I need to worry.

However, if it goes the other way, at least he’s experienced with trunks.

I don’t know that I would really call this a tradition, but sometimes on Mother’s Day, Henry will act like The Best Man On Earth and take me to DelGrosso’s Amusement Park, about 2 hours outside of Pittsburgh, so that I can ride the fuck out of the Wacky Worm and shovel potato salad down my throat in the style of violent porno cunnilingus.

Or, you know, pie eating contest.

Plus, moms ride for free on Mother’s Day.

This year, we didn’t have to rent a car! Yay new car! We listened to Dance Gavin Dance THE WHOLE WAY THERE because it was Mother’s Day. Oh OK, let’s be real: every day is my day when it comes to radio control. The best part is that the stereo system is so good that Chooch chattered away in the backseat and I COULDN’T HEAR A WORD HE SAID! Ahhh, a mother’s bliss.

However, I did hear him pipe up from the backseat and request Circa Survive. I was like, “WHAT SRSLY? You want me to put on Circa Survive?!” and he said, “Yes. ‘Act Appalled’.” I almost broke my finger off in my frantic attempt to queue up this song post-haste, because I have been waiting NINE YEARS for my son to like Circa Survive. I used to listen to their first album constantly when I was pregnant with him! And I tell him that all of the time and he just rolls his eyes. But on this day? On this day, he sat in the backseat and sang along because that little fucker knows all of the words and has probably always liked them but he’s just like HIS DAD in  that regard.

 Henry pretended to hate The Used for like, 6 years!

God, what a great Mother’s Day present, hearing Chooch’s little boy voice singing along with Anthony Green. That was way better than the makeup from Ulta, and it was FREE!

My second favorite part of the day was when we got to Delgrosso’s and the old lady inside the admission booth looked at me skeptically and asked, “Are you….the mom?” YES I AM NOW GIVE ME MY FREE WRIST BAND, HERE JUST PUT IT ON ABOVE MY OTHER WRISTBAND FROM LAST NIGHT, THANKS.

And then right away, it was Wacky Worm time!

Chooch wanted to ride in separate worm-compartments and I threw an actual fit while we stood in line, and then accused him of not giving a shit about my feelings, and on MOTHER’S DAY OF ALL DAYS. Finally, he was like, “Jesus Christ, OK. Pick a damn seat!”

I hit my leg SO HARD when I sat down. The Wacky Worm is not kind to us tall kids.

Immediately after this, I went up to Henry and said, “FOOD.” He put in our pizza, came over to the bench Chooch and I were slouched upon, making fun of people, and handed me  the receipt. “Here. Listen for our number to be called while I go and order the potato salad.”

WTF? How did this become my problem!?

Of course, Chooch and I forgot about our big important task almost immediately, until I realized a few minutes later that a number greater than ours was being called. “WTF, did we miss our number?” I asked Chooch. So we got up and stood closer to the pizza windows, and I totally panicked while numbers were called out of order because HOW WILL WE EVER KNOW IF THEY CALLED OURS ALREADY?

It was so confusing and I kept emitting audible groans of disgust and anguish because why do I have to do this thing?

! It was probably the worst part of my day, maybe.

But then our number was called for real and Chooch and I had already devoured our slices by the time Henry came back to our table with his hot dog (which Chooch took from him) and the potato salad.

Henry is always the last one to eat.

Anyway, I was really mad because one of my biggest pet peeves is when Chooch gets food all over himself. I feel like, at the age of 9, he should maybe have a better grasp on his food-handling by now, I don’t know?! So I said, “PLEASE do not get pizza on  yourself, I’m begging you” and by the time I turned back to my own pizza slice, a glob of sauce had sluiced right off his chin and plopped right smack onto the crotch of his shorts.

I called him Sauce Crotch for the rest of the day and now I’m going to draw him a picture of Sasquatch wearing stained shorts, but don’t worry, he’ll also be holding a slice of pizza in his hand so it will look less like a menstrual mishap.

All you potato salad aficionados out there, ya gotta try DelGrosso’s. It is fucking ON POINT. I referred to it as “Creamy sex” once and I stand by that statement. Henry bought some shitty supermarket brand potato salad the next day and I was like, “Why do you have to bring this ghetto shit in my house? The day after Delgrosso’s, really? You’re killing me.”

On the Crazy Mouse, Chooch practiced all of his swears in one long tangent and I just don’t care to stop him from swearing anymore. Just don’t do it in school and I’m fine with it. Parenting sometimes takes mental strength which I do not have a lot of.  I feel tired just typing that out, to be honest.

There was some young kid on the carousel who had a 1990s Billy Ray Cyrus mullet and of course I took an entire series of photos, but I’m not going to post them here because I have a tiny shred of common sense that is telling me that might not be wise. (I’m trying to be smarter about blogging, and it’s been a struggle.) But my lord, was that mullet majestic.

The thing about Delgrosso’s is that once you ride the Wacky Worm and the Crazy Mouse, it’s like “………………….”

It’s a really small park and the rest of the rides are your typical carnival/county fair assortment: Paratroopers, Tilt-A-Whirl, carousel, Music Express, pirate ship…basically it’s a bunch of different ways to self-impose whiplash and/or motion sickness. I’ve gotten ridiculously sick here before, to the point where I had to lay down across a bench and pray to the Vertigo gods to reset my eyeballs and put the color back in my cheeks. I try to pace myself now, which means Paratroopers/45 minutes of nothing/ice cream/Music Express/45 minutes of nothing/watch Chooch play games/Tilt-a-Whirl/OMG I’M DYING LET’S LEAVE/go home.

Chooch is like, “I can’t wait until I can ride this shit with my friends and not my weird MOM.”

I couldn’t get  my eyeballs to stop moving back and forth after this ride and it was concerning.

We let Chooch go off and buy his own drink and then for a good 5 minutes there was a mild concern that he had been kidnapped. Don’t worry, he came back to us. Just like a boomerang.

A sweaty, foul-mouthed boomerang.

I wonder what it’s like to be Chooch.

Pre-Tilt-a-Whirl nausea.

The Tilt-a-Whirl was being worked on all day but we just happened to be standing near it when they declared success and a Delgrosso’s ride operator walked on to give it one more test run.

“IS IT OK NOW?” I called up to him, and he kind of nodded, sort of, so Chooch and I raced to get in line and Henry was like, “Seriously? The gate isn’t even open yet.” It took everything in my power not to turn around and shout “FIRST!!!” in the faces of the asshole kids behind us. MOVE A LITTLE FASTER NEXT TIME.

I guess the ride operator was trying to overcompensate for the ride being closed all day, because he left us on there for a good three minutes.

That’s about two minutes too long in Spinny Ride Time.

And you know how sometimes the Tilt-a-Whirl is a big fat dud? Your car doesn’t get any good spins? Well, this particular go-around was chockfull of violent spins, which were ultra giggle-inducing at first, but then it quickly turned to stomach-churning and I was afraid that I was going to giggle chunks of potato salad right out of my open mouth, so I was pretty quiet for the last two minutes.

When I stumbled off the ride, Henry was waiting there to say, “Good for you” with that smug fucking look on his face. And then, “So, I guess you’re ready to go home then?”

Twist my arm.

But first! One last ride on the Wacky Worm. Never too sick for the Wacky Worm. (Until I am.)

I wanted Henry to carry me to the car but he was just like, “You haven’t lost THAT much weight.”

***********

The next day, we were in our weekly meeting and our boss asked if we all had a nice Mother’s Day. Glenn spoke up and said, “Tell everyone what you did, Erin!” because he knows I hate talking in our meetings, so I mumbled that I rode the Wacky Worm but out of everyone in the room that day, only Glenn and Amber1 know about my Wacky Worm obsession so I mumbled a brief explanation and everyone was kind of like, “Oh. Ok.”

#misunderstood
FUN FACT: If you Google image search “Wacky Worm”, a picture of Glenn comes up on the first page.

On Mothers Day we went to Delgrosso’s  and I had a fun day.  Of course Mommy wanted to go on the Wacky Worm first because she’s obsessed with it. So we went to the bathroom first because if I say I have to go the while we’re there daddy will get pissed. So after the Wacky Worm we went on the Crazy Mouse and  a lot of the rides were getting maintenance checked and we waited in line for a while. Since the ride only has 5 carts we went on in like 5minutes. Then mommy and  I went on the Music Express and the Umbrellas. Then  I got ice cream which was Chocolate Marshmallow and I wanted to go on the Pirate Ship (aka Pharaoh’s Fury) by MYSELF because Daddy never gets a bracelet and mommy didn’t want to get sick because she wanted to go on more rides. While I was in line Daddy was EATING my ice cream and I only had a quarter  of it and daddy had half . In line I screamed at him and the people in front of me laughed.

But mommy gets to eat ALL of her ice cream (she just said “Because I’m the best”)

Daddy gave me 1 dollar for 1 game to win on and I picked  a game where you have to put BALLS IN A CLOWN’S MOUTH (which sounds so wrong) It was pretty easy minus the fact fact where you have to get 1 ball in each slot. It took me 2 tries to win. I won this CUTE ,PURPLE ,FLUFFY ,DELIRIOUS , AND PRETTY  PIG. I won it for mommy and then she said “Oh thanks, you can keep It in your room though.” I was okay with that. We named him Pukey JR. Then mommy and I went on the Tilt-a-Whirl which was under maintenance but we were the first people on the Tilt-a-Whirl since the whole day. It wasn’t a surprise but every time mommy wants to go on the Tilt-a-Whirl she gets sick. The last ride of the day was the Wacky Worm. We had a fun day at Delgrosso’s.

(BONUS!!!) The day before Delgrosso’s daddy and I went to Michael’s then Ulta to get mommy a present for Mothers Day. I really wanted a sticker book for while we are going to Delgrosso’s and in the car  for 2 hours. Daddy wondered how much it was I said 13 US DOLLARS and 20 CANADIAN DOLLARS. He said “OH HELL NO I BUY ENOUGH S*** FOR YOU!” I threw a fit the whole way into Ulta and I put on makeup in there and daddy was pissed. On the way back home from Delgrosso’s we went to a restaurant called Valley Dairy. Our waitress was named Sarah and some waiter was basically doing our whole service because Sarah was slow and having a rough ,rough day. (Speaking of having a rough day, Sarah in my class was having a rough day because her nose was bleeding like all day Tuesday and Wednesday.)

Sarah finally came to our service and asked for our order. After dinner I ordered a Clown Sundae and I sadly made fun of it and mommy said Sarah was having a rough day. I liked the sundae though that’s all that matters.

Meaty Thighs Are OK.

We were getting ready to leave for Delgrosso’s yesterday morning when I decided to have one of my standard “Wah, I’m so fat” shit fits. I always figure that Chooch isn’t paying attention to this shit, because why would he? My whining is not that interesting nor is it even slightly relevant. But then from the other room, while playing some stupid game on Xbox, he piped up with, “You’re not fat. You’re like Nicki Minaj. She has a big butt and thighs like you, and she’s still skinny. Kim Kardashian, too.” That weird little pep talk was a better Mother’s Day gift than the Urban Decay Vice palette that he and Henry got me!

Chooch’s Oh Snap Moment

On our way home from Delgrosso’s, we stopped at the mother of all Sheetz in Altoona. “Is this the Sheetz we went to that one time when we were fighting?” I asked Henry, referring to the miserable drive home he and I had from Allentown, PA last Memorial Day weekend. Chooch chimed in from the backseat, “Well, mommy, that’s hard to say, because you guys are always fighting.” His tell-all is going to be something else. (Also, we are not ALWAYS fighting! It’s mostly just me fighting.)

Also, with the music I listen to and all of my mental issues, Chooch has heard A LOT of screaming over the years.

Pickle Spreadsheets

We stopped at Valley Dairy for dinner. At first, we thought it was going to be an issue because we had to wake Chooch up from a nap and he is a fucking beast when awakened, so before we were seated, things were pretty sketchy. But then the opposite personality won out and we ended up with Super Entertaining Giggle Fit Chooch. One of the things that made him lose his shit started with a pickle. “Don’t you like pickles?” he asked me, noting that I hadn’t eaten the pickle on my grilled cheese plate.

My mouth was full, so Chauvinistic Henry answered for me. “She likes pickles, but 98% of the time, she leaves them on her plate.” He was so eager to divulge these statistics about my pickle proclivity! I had no idea Henry had been keeping such close tabs on my gherkin grazing.

“What, are you keeping a spreadsheet?” I asked Henry snidely.

Chooch considered this for a statement and then asked, “What’s a spreadsheet? Is that what the doctor puts over a lady before she has a baby?”

I fucking lost it right there at that Valley Dairy table, over top of my grilled cheese and the pickle that had only 2% chance of exploring my digestive tract, next to Henry who for once was unable to keep a straight face, and then Chooch started choking because he was laughing so hard, too.

“What?” Chooch laughed, trying to play innocent. “I see those all the time on the shows daddy watches.”

“Oh, he’s watching A Baby Story again, then?” I asked, and Henry just frowned. He only lets himself laugh for so long, you know. Then it’s back on the red eye to Frown Town.

Chooch and his “clown” sundae.

Stickers Make Chooch Pretty

I kept hearing about some sticker book that Henry wouldn’t buy Chooch at the craft store Saturday night. I felt bad at first, because I was hugely into stickers when I was his age, and I fondly told them about all of the sticker books I had, and the one that was especially for scratch-n-sniff, and how I used to stuff them all in a big purple tote bag that started to rip in one corner because so many sticker books were sardined in there. I heard Chooch emit a disgusted sigh; he hates when I get nostalgic because the theme is almost always Erin’s Charmed Childhood Where She Got Everything She Wanted. EXCEPT THE UNCONDITIONAL LOVE OF MY MOM, CHOOCH. (He doesn’t care about that yet.)

“What kind of sticker book did you want?” I asked Chooch.

“It was Pokémon and—-”

“Oh,” I waved him off. “I wouldn’t have bought it for you either. That sounds dumb.”

He started to get real defensive and tried to explain all of the merits of this dumb sticker book, and Henry sighed heavily and dragged his hands down his face.

“This is what I went through all last night,” Henry said. “We left Michaels and he threw a fit in the middle of Ulta when I was trying to buy your Mother’s Day present.”

Chooch started giggling uncontrollably as Henry told the tale of the tantrum, because there’s little Chooch enjoys more in life than hearing about what a spoiled brat he is and how he embarrasses us. So while Henry told me about how Chooch LAYED IN  THE MIDDLE OF THE STORE WHINING and how Henry turned around just in time  to see him applying one of the tester lipsticks straight on his mouth, Chooch was nearly swallowing his tongue from laughing so hard.

Half the restaurant was staring at us because sometimes it’s hard to tell if he’s crying or laughing.

“This is what it’s like to be around you and Corey, by the way!” Henry said accusatorily.

“And then I was smearing eye shadow on my fingers like nail polish!” Chooch wailed, reaching the point of hiccups. He was laughing so hard that we could see the cherry from his clown sundae (made shoddily by our waitress Sarah who was having a really bad day so I made Henry leave her a nice tip but mostly because she reminded me of Lynn Gunn from PVRIS) resting precariously on his tongue, a choking hazard lying in wait.

Henry grumpily told me that he had to practically bathe Chooch in makeup remover before they left the store. This whole scene was hilarious to me, that the catalyst was a fucking Pokémon sticker book that he is STILL talking about! So now Chooch and I were both laughing our faces off and Henry was so uncomfortable.

These are the things that I want to remember the most about Mother’s Day.

7 comments

**Party Peeps**

• Zac
• Lucy
• Olivia & Sophia
• Owen
• Jolee
• Sharyn
• Harland
• Kara
• Chris and Monica
• Corey
• Janna

Chooch decided a while back that he wanted to have a laser tag birthday party, even though none of us have played before. Believe me, I was fine with this because it meant SMALL. As in: FEW KIDS. I’m not sure who was more excited the day of his party: Chooch or me.

Once everyone arrived, our personal party coordinator came in and led us to the laser tag holding cell, where she bumbled through the rules of the game and pretty much had us utterly confused. We split into two teams without hesitation: Awesome Adults vs. Dumb Kids. And then Janna “accidentally” gouged the back of my arm with her stupid laser gun and I was like “Bitch, best count your blessings that we’re on the same damn team.”

But then I noticed that after Henry was done helping all of the kids suit up, he stayed over on their side. “C’mon, Erin. They have to have at least one adult or it won’t be fair!”

Yeah, exactly! Why give them a chance!?

I was instantly nervous about this. Henry and I being on opposing teams means that Super Competitive Extreme Asshole Erin comes out. I was hoping that we could be on the same team so that I wouldn’t have to get stressed out and possibly risk eviction from Laser Storm and/or losing a friend. (I really think this is why my friend Stacey hasn’t come to one of my game nights since 2009. I get real ugly.) So look, I’m competitive in general, but as soon as the competition involves Henry as an opponent, I take it to new levels. Any old friends reading this remember the dreaded New Years Eve Trivial Pursuit debacle that resulted in me flipping over the game board (the table was too heavy to flip) and screaming about how everyone hates me all over some question about Yoshi? And then spending the next year constantly bringing up the fact that not a single person there that night cared enough to stop me from driving home drunk and psychotic?

O MEM’RIES.

My mantra is always, “I don’t care if I lose as long as Henry doesn’t win.” And the sad thing is that he genuinely always wants me to win!

I’m sorry, Henry fans, but as soon as our respective team doors opened to the laser tag arena, Henry went from being my loving life partner/father of my child/all-around Jeeves to motherfucking Bin Laden. I COULDN’T WAIT TO SHOOT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM!

One of the twins was smart and chose my team. She said she didn’t want to be on her sister’s team, and I understood. SHE WANTED TO WIN.

Once we were in the darkened room, a strange combination of panic and adrenaline melted over me and I realized I forgot everything we learned, all of the rules, all of the objectives. But then I remembered that I had but one mission: KILL HENRY. So I put my blinders on to everything but Henry’s dumb head and I shot that motherfucker every single chance I got. I even did the whole run-dive-shoot thing at one point and sincerely hurt my hip but I think my shot hit him so it was obviously worth it.

Oh, and no big deal, but my team won.

Because Henry is a cheap-ass, he only paid for ONE ROUND of laser tag. And apparently one round is only like 15 minutes! (Which apparently is long enough for my hair to stick to my neck with war-sweat.) Luckily, we had the party room for an hour and a half though, so we didn’t have to kick anyone out after the game was over.

Back in the party room, Party Warden passed out everyone’s score cards and I was pleased to see that I at least beat Janna. I don’t think any of the kids so much as glanced at their score cards, but us adults studied and compared ours obsessively for a good ten minutes. Monica was extremely disturbed by the inaccuracy of her score card and I think it came close to ruining her whole day. “Apparently, it doesn’t matter how many times you hit base, because it’s worth ZERO POINTS,” she announced bitterly.

Asshole Henry shot me one time more than I shot him, so that sucked. But the real victory was that Henry was NOT the MVP of the whole entire game—Corey was! SUCK IT, HENRY!

But then Corey kept bragging about being MVP and I was like, “UGH SUCK IT, COREY!”

I took this picture shortly after I burst Corey’s MVP bubble by snapping, “Whatever, at least I can see colors.” #mybrotheriscolorblind

In this picture, you will note Henry’s naturally-sour face looking even more acerbic. Apparently, he had taste-tested the Sierra Mist and was appalled. “IT HAS NO TASTE!” he said repeatedly until people eventually started looking around the room and saying, “Do you hear something? Is someone talking to us? Oh, it’s just Henry.”

He ended up sending back the Sierra Mist because it was “just carbonation.” He was a huge dick about it too. The party warden was like, “Shucks sir, I have no idea what you’re bitching about but sure, I’ll bring you another pitcher if it means you’ll stop twitching your molester ‘stach in my general direction.” That broad could not wait for our 90 minutes to expire.

If Henry had a blog, his version of this day would be all about how he saved the children from imbibing defective soft drinks, spent so much money in order to buy his son’s happiness, and probably some boring anecdote about when he was in THE SERVICE not fighting in a war. Laser tag was probably more dangerous and combative than anything he did while “SERVING.”

Included in the party package was a cake, and it was actually not as disgusting as I imagined it would be. We sang the weirdest version of Happy Birthday to Chooch, and I have no idea who set the tone, but it sounded like a fucking funeral dirge. (See also: Nick Cave singing Gregorian chants to a dead person.) I thought maybe it was just me, but afterward, everyone seemed to mutually agree that it was weird and the party warden looked nervous.

In this picture, Monica is using the calculator on her phone to work out what her actual score was since none of her base hits made it on her score card.

All of the kids got tokens for the game room afterward, and there were a bunch left over so the rest of us practically mauled Henry for some.

Monica was obsessed with this old broad with her nose in a Danielle Steele book who had the audacity to make disgusted scowls at all of the children running around making gleeful sounds. She was sitting so close to the skee ball row that it’s surprising that no one tried to roll one of the balls off her surly, disapproving face.

“Seriously? You expect to be able to read your book peacefully in a LASER TAG ARENA?!” Monica scoffed. “Please take a picture of her,” she whispered to me.

I don’t remember being so terrible at skee ball. I gave the rest of my tokens to some child.

Chris texted me before the party and said that one of the gifts she bought him might be a bit girlish, and should she wait until the other kids weren’t around before giving it to him? I said no, because I’m always up for watching my child being humiliated, but it turned out to be a “yummy crochet” kit and he could barely contain all of the stoked feelings. Chooch mentioned not too long, at dinner with Chris and Monica, that he wanted to learn how to crochet (specifically, the Japanese style of crocheting, amigurumi). Of course, this conversation turned weird, with the suggestion that Chris become possessed by the ghost of Henry’s late grandmother in order to teach Chooch how to crochet.

Hey, if you read the post about Chooch’s actual birthday, then you already know the spoon story. But here it is again, anyway, BECAUSE I LOVE TELLING IT! We had a small family party on Chooch’s real birthday, and by the end of the night, he was exhausted and cranky. Some might say his “inner Erin” was coming out. When he walked past Corey on his way to bed, he stopped and in this totally shitty, sarcastic tone, said, “Oh and thanks for much for the present, Corey.”

“Your mom said I could just bring your present to your laser tag party next week!” Corey cried defensively.

“Whatever, it’s probably just going to be a spoon,” Chooch spat in a spoiled tone. And as he began to walk away, he paused and added, “For me to shove up my ass!” He wasn’t even trying to be funny, but Corey, Janna and I all fucking lost it. It was late, we were slap-happy, and then that happened and it turned into A Thing.

Corey made a note in his phone that just said “Get spoon.”

And oh, he got a spoon, alright. Corey had it tucked in the gift bag with the actual presents he bought Chooch, but I suggested that we take the real presents out and hide them, so it looked like literally all he got Chooch was a spoon.

When Chooch pulled it out of the bag, he was so confused. I couldn’t believe he had forgotten in a week! His cousin Zac said, “Is that for your mom to beat you?” and all of his friends were just like, “Your parties are so weird.” It wasn’t until he read the card that he realized it was from Corey and then it all kind of clicked, so he stormed off to “have words” with him. Total highlight of the party.

The Spoon. It has become something of a phenomenon in our house. We take #spoonselfies now and Henry is making a plaque for it so that when Chooch isn’t toting it around, he’ll have a place to hang it for the night.

In this short video, you can see the tail end of Monica saving my face from acquiring a basketball imprint, laser tag sounds (that’s my dumb voice screaming “OH MY G—-” at the end), and the Unwrapping of the Spoon. I wish I had a video of the super-sad Zoloft commercial happy birthday serenade, but COREY deleted it because he didn’t like how his VOICE sounded! Ugh, the worst!

***

Chooch just strutted past in his underwear and I asked him if he had anything to add while I’m writing this. He said, “Yeah, thanks for the spoon, Corey.” And then as he ascended the staircase to his room, he mumbled, “I love it.”

I still have no idea how we managed to not get kicked out.

HAHA SIKE. This is just another post about Warped Tour and not actually the maniacal manifesto/illegible murder confession that I think some people (Henry) have been nervously expecting.

Every time I look at the Warped Tour lineup for 2015, I feel like I might have immaculately conceived. The only downside is that there is no way I’m going to be able to see every single band on my list; there are just too many and some are bound to overlap. #musicfestivalproblems

In all of my obsessive Warped Tour thinking/planning/daydreaming, I uncovered some photos of Chooch that I never posted from his first time at Warped Tour in 2013. They were lost in some random desktop folder, probably Henry’s fault.

Christofer Drew is offering 45-minute songwriting classes this summer and Chooch and I have been talking about whether he wants me to sign him up for that or not. It costs extra, and if he’s going to get all starstruck like the last time he met Christofer, then that’s kind of a waste.

Chooch was all pissed off a few weeks ago because he was waiting for the bus that takes him to the after school program, when some middle school girl walked past him, saw that he was wearing a Pierce the Veil shirt, and said, “You probably don’t even listen to Pierce the Veil.” Bitch, he was singing Isles and Glaciers songs when he was still sitting in a CAR SEAT, so shut your dumb face.

If she only knew that he was practically born into this scene! Last night, I was YouTubing live Dance Gavin Dance videos while Chooch was putting together some Minecraft Lego thing, when he said, “Put on something from when Kurt Travis was the singer.” And then we watched an entire A Lot Like Birds show.

Because clearly, Chooch is a poser.

I hope we see that girl at the Sleeping With Sirens show next month. You know, if she was able to get tickets before they sold out in less than 5 days.

I posted a picture of my Warped Tour ticket (it’s the special 3D collectors ticket with Choonimals artwork, duh) on Instagram and WARPED TOUR REGRAMMED ME!

^^^^ Totally the apogee of my Instagram tenure.

TWO MORE MONTHS. TWO MORE MONTHS. TWO MORE MOTHERFUCKING MONTHS!!!

Saturday was so chill in comparison to past birthday parties, where we rent a pavilion and stress over weather, food and decorations. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good birthday blowout, and I love getting to see everyone, but the “getting to there” part gives me gray hairs and then I’m usually not even able to hang out with everyone because I’m running around like an asshole and trying to make uncomfortable small talk with school parents. This time, we opted to just have family over for cake, and then a small, separate party for his school friends at a laser tag place next weekend.  My nerves are still thanking me profusely. Birthday parties are a lot of work!

Chooch looks like he’s smiling, but he was actually in the middle of making gritted-teeth demands and being a brat because his party hadn’t started yet, god forbid he had to sit with Janna and me any longer!

So then he was like, “Eff y’all, I’m doing my word search, which is more entertaining than either of you.”

But then Blake showed up with a present and believe me, Chooch’s love can 100% be bought. But then if you stop buying him shit, that love gets lost real fast.

Blake got him some kind of talking cat thing, so Chooch had it saying “Janna sucks” within seconds.

We invited the neighbor kid because he’s adorable and Chooch is always at his house, so we figured it might be time to return the sentiment. I don’t like kids in my house because of all of my Stuff and Breakables and also because it’s My House, plus you never know what will be going on in here, anything from making STD cookies to serial killer cards.  But I made an exception and within 2 seconds, the kid ogled the Devil rug and then put on a pig mask. It seemed to be OK.

“I just wanted to take a picture of you being a brother,” I said to Blake as I snapped this.

The guests:

• Janna
• Markie
• Blake
• Robbie & Nikki
• Corey
• Judy
• Kelly
• Zac
• Sam
• Steph and Kian

Then Henry’s sister Kelly and her crew arrived, so it was officially a party. And Sam is old enough to drink legally now, I can’t believe it!

The only annoying part of the whole thing was a cake. The laser tag place provides its own cake (which I’m sure is going to be “delicious”) so I only had to order one for the family soiree. Chooch said jokingly that he wanted a Teletubbies cake, and I was like YES I CAN MAKE THAT HAPPEN. I ordered a photo cake from my beloved Bethel Bakery, and submitted a picture of the Teletubbies onto which I had Photoshopped Chooch. But the next day they emailed me and said I would have to submit a different picture because of Copyright bullshit.

My response was a curt, “That’s fine,” which obviously is Bitch Code for You Just Fucking Ruined Everything, Including My Life.

I just had a “That’s fine” moment two days before, when we went to Sugar & Spice specifically so I could get a soft serve cone with crunchies, but then I had tha audacity to order one of the “designer” flavors instead of standard chocolate or vanilla, so the broad was like, “NOW THIS WILL BE TOO SOFT AND MELTY FOR THE CRUNCHIES.”

To which I replied with, “__________”

“Do you want me to try and blend them in instead?”

“No, just forget it. Forget the crunchies,” I said in pout-slur.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s fine.”

IT WAS NOT FINE. THE CRUNCHIES WERE THE WHOLE REASON I CAME TO YOUR LAME ICE CREAM SHOP, BITCH, LEARN HOW TO USE YOUR DUMB MACHINE THEN!

Meanwhile, Henry was like, “Ooooh, I know THAT ‘it’s fine’!”

I didn’t have a plan B for the ice cream, but I had one for the cake. I told the bakery to just nix the photo aspect and give me an outdoors background. Then Henry printed out the Teletubbies and the photo I wanted to use of Chooch, and we just stuck them on the cake with popcicle sticks.

I was kind of angry at the half-assed cake decorating on the bakery’s end though. My family has used this bakery for as long as I have been alive and it has never let me down, except for being closed EVERY YEAR the week of my birthday. I mean, the cake itself was still delicious as fuck (it’s the best in the city), but it looked like it was some kid’s first time using an airbrush. The piping along the edges didn’t even connect!

They were apparently running behind and made Henry wait, but they apologized by letting Chooch pick a complimentary treat from the bakery store. At first, I was all fired up and ready to put my Hate Mail cape on, but I don’t know. I love Bethel Bakery. Maybe I should excuse them this one time.

(If the cake had tasted bad, then it would be WAR.)

This was a scary moment, but I need to put out that Chooch has better cake-cutting skills than me. I mean, a blind double-arm amputee probably does, as well.

My house was full of so many good people and it made me incredibly happy. Marcy would have hated this.

….and this.

I know, it looks like they’re engrossed in their phones, how cliche, but they were all actually playing some Xbox party game that you use your phone with. I think this particular one was a Pictionary-type game and one of the pictures was “surprise tape worm” which is the best thing ever and sounds like one of my old AIM screen names, to be honest.

JUDY.

Don’t think I forgot to treat myself on this sacred day. I celebrated the ninth year of my C-section incision phantom pains with a ticket to the Smashing Pumpkins acoustic show at the Library Music Hall in June. They’re only doing this in like 10 cities as a pre-tour thing, and surprisingly Pittsburgh was one. Tickets went on sale Saturday at noon, and I’m glad I (impulsively) bought mine then because it’s sold out already. I bought mine only an hour after they went on sale and the best available ticket was in the last row of the balcony. I’m fine with that. I was actually surprised that there were any left at all at that point!

Corey with the sprinkles that he made Henry buy him over ten years ago when he was sleeping over and had a “hankering for sprinkles.” I can’t believe we still have these in the kitchen?!

“What? They never go bad!” Henry said defensively.

Meanwhile, Corey and I were excited that we had a big audience to entertain with our Janna Tales, especially now that we have the Robitussin incident to add to the repertoire. The Silhouette Story in particular seemed to get a better response this time around. (At Marcy’s wake, it was met with a few unreadable reactions, like possibly we were being offensive.)

I think my favorite part was that Blake and Robbie stayed so long. And Robbie brought his new girlfriend, Nikki, and we all highly approve. She was so nice and cute! 

Sometime after 11, Henry’s family left and it was just me, Chooch, Janna and Corey. We promised Chooch that we would do the Tetris Dance on Just Dance with him, because he needed three more people. We had all been drinking, plus our natural giddiness exacerbates the drunkiness, so when it got to the part where we had to pick up Chooch horizontally, we totally dropped him. He was so mad, which only made us laugh harder because that’s what dicks do.

And we’re dicks.

Chooch reached his limit around midnight and declared that he was going to bed. He stopped as he was passing Corey and sarcastically said, “Oh, and thanks so much for the present.”

“Your mom said I can just bring it to the laser tag party next week!” Corey cried.

“Whatever. It’s probably going to be something dumb. Like a spoon,” Chooch grumbled. And then as an afterthought, he spat over his shoulder, “For me to shove up my ass!” before storming off to his room.

We fucking died. Can he be anymore like me? Nothing is ever good enough! Weee!

And so that is why Corey now has a “get spoon” reminder in his phone.

(Flashback to 4.)

Thank you to everyone who wished Chooch a happy birthday via text, Facebook, Twitter and Instagram—I showed him every single one of the birthday wishes and he ate it all up. Birthdays rule, man!

Henry took Chooch out shopping for “anything he wanted” and then successfully talked him out of 99% of the “anything.” He finally got Just Dance for Xbox and spent most of the day getting in accidental exercise*, stopping long enough to go to the Southside with me and Janna so I could take my Marcy portrait deposit to Kyklops (the girl doing the tattoo for me is married to an old friend of mine who was actually attacked numerous times by a young Marcy) and to get a late lunch at La Palapa, where we had a handsome waiter named Lester who was so handome that I had to tip him handsomely to match his handsome face. Sigh. Lester.

Then Janna had to use to the bathroom, which inspired Chooch to make hashtags with his fingers and loudly announce, “HASHTAG JANNA USES THE BATHROOM.” She was so pissed. His inner “Kelly” becomes more and more dominant by the day. He is TOTALLY related to me and Corey.

NO children allowed in Kyklops. Chooch didn’t give a fuck. He had a word search book.

*(Here’s a clip of Chooch dancing to You Spin Me Round, with cameos by me and Janna.)

The day culminated in a family cake gathering with a grand finale of Corey keeping us up late watching “ghetto fights” on YouTube.  Pretty sure that’s what gave me nightmares last night. 

Both of Henry’s sons came! And Corey! I can’t remember the last time all three of them were here at the same time. It was awesome.

I will write more about that later. Right now, I’m nursing a severe cinnamon horchata Blue Moon and confetti cake hangover. Devil Rug help me.  

I came home from work and started going through old pictures to re-edit, because it has been A Week, and playing with photos calms my nerves almost as much as wine. Obviously, I’ve been going through Chooch pictures because it’s his birthday on Saturday and I get so fucking weepy and nostalgic every year around this time. He’s almost old enough to be a latchkey kid! SOON HE WILL BE A TEENAGER AND THAT WILL MEAN I’M OLD TOO.

Haha, no it won’t. Peter Pan Syndrome 4 lyfe.

I don’t know. Enjoy some random photos of my kid.

2008 – I WONDER IF BLAKE STILL HAS THAT SHIRT. God, we used to drive Henry nuts with our constant need to listen to DGD in the car. I guess not much has changed, at least on my end.

2012

2006 – Cemeteries have always been his playground.

2011

2012 again.

Bonus: When Henry exhibited lightning-quick reflexes to catch Chooch before he pancaked across the ground, circa 2007.

Ugh, I can’t wait for the weeeeeeeekend.

Ugh, Chooch is going to be nine on Saturday. How does time go by so fast? I hate it! We’re not doing a big party this year.

He wanted to have a small party at the laser tag place for his friends, and then we’re having some people over on Saturday for cake.

Nice and simple, which will be a nice reprieve for my bulging nerves.

I don’t know what dumb Henry is getting him, but I bought him a ticket to the Sleeping With Sirens acoustic show in June, because The Summer Set is opening and they’re one of his favorite bands. I’m pretty meh about both bands, but I took one for the team and made sure I was on the SWS website at the exact moment tickets went on sale. It did eventually sell out too, and it’s at one of the smaller venues in Pittsburgh, so I really anticipate a night in a small room with hundreds of screaming teenage girls!

But, it’s worth it. Especially when he found out I bought tickets and then proceeded to scream like one of the aforementioned teenage girls.

(From last summer’s Warped Tour.)

I ordered his birthday cake last night (oh boy, it’s a good one) and wanted to order one for my C-section incision too (9 years of phantom pains!) but I took Henry’s frown as a no.