See also: Waffle Whining

****

In order to raise some extra money for the food drive that the Law Firm is currently embroiled in, our department had a Chinese Auction yesterday. I don’t normally pay attention to these things because most of the items donated always seem to be things I wouldn’t ever use, like spatulas and laundry baskets. (These are standard Chinese Auction things, right? I honestly never look!)

I can tell you for sure that I didn’t bother to participate the last time this happened because I was still in my old position here and pouting literally every day. I remember hearing sounds of mirth and camaraderie coming from my work friends on the Other Side as they admired all of the wares and bought tickets, which made me slump in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. It was Dark Days back then, friends.

And honestly, I probably still wouldn’t have given a shit this time around either, except that I accidentally noticed it.

The best prize in all of the land.

A waffle maker.

I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED A WAFFLE MAKER! Henry is always “eh” about it when it comes up because he knows that I’ll be having him make some lavender fig chia seed monstrosity stuffed with some out of season exotic fruit that needs to be special ordered from a treetop garden in Tasmania.

And not that it comes up a lot, but I do read some bohemian lifestyle blogs for some reason even though I am neither Bohemian nor lifestyle, and they sometimes post photos of post-night, ante meridiem recipes (also known as: breakfast) for their fancy waffle maker sisterwives to say things like “amaze” and “so much yum” to on Instagram. Waffles are the shit. Waffles over pancakes any day. (Only because pancakes often make me sick, though.)

Our new admin person, Carrie, was the point person for the Chinese auction, so after digging out a crumbled dollar bill from my jacket pocket, I strutted to her desk and proudly thrust it at her in exchange for a ticket. Glenn, having heard my cries of waffle ecstasy, bought FIVE TICKETS and said he was going to put them all in the waffle maker raffle bag! AND THEN APPROXIMATELY EVERY OTHER PERSON IN THE DEPARTMENT DID THE SAME.

AND THEN GLENN BOUGHT FIVE MORE TICKETS!

This waffle maker was a hot commodity. I felt a little relief knowing that there were two of them being auctioned off, at least. Two winners. MAYBE I WOULD BE ONE.

But then something terrible happened. Amber AG¹ declared that she too wanted to win the waffle maker. This could ruin our friendship, I thought to myself nervously.

And then LOU bought some tickets from Carrie and I overheard him tell her that he wanted the waffle maker and I got so enraged. He’s already my least favorite analyst! (Don’t worry, he knows. I told him.)

“They’re both broken,” I shouted, trying to deter him. He just laughed and walked away with his Cheater Tickets and I was 100% wringing my hands at this point. Literally everyone wanted the waffle maker. Who even knows what else was over there! WAFFLE MAKER.

Glenn spent the rest of the day taunting me mercilessly. He said if he won, he was going to sell it, just not to me. Meanwhile, Amber was way more upbeat about her desire to win and was over at her desk practically singing “I want the waffle maker” to the tune of New Kids On the Block. This was in stark contrast to how  I was expressing myself, which was by moping, whining, and panicking about my odds all day. 

I just knew I was going to lose. I never win these things!

Stop pouting, I told myself. Maybe out loud, even. The drawing hadn’t even started yet and I already had myself losing. I went outside for a walk to cool off a little, and I called Henry.

“Never mind,” I said with a big sigh as soon as he said hello.

“Never mind what?” he asked tentatively.

“Just forget it,” I sighed Eeyore-ishly.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” he asked.

“IfIwonawafflemakerwouldyouuseit?” I blurted out in an auctioneer’s cadence.

“I mean, I guess,” Henry slowly answered, waiting for the other shoe to fall. And then I started gushing about the day’s events, and how I remembered that I actually brought my wallet that day and I had FIVE MORE DOLLARS to buy more tickets, and then Wendy felt so much pity for me that she put a ticket in the waffle maker bag too, even though she has a scar on her arm from a hotel waffle iron and basically never wants to look at one again, and then I begged Gayle to put in a ticket for me, too, and she originally said no but then I was like GAAAAAAYLE!!! and so she did it and OMG I’M GOING TO LOSE AREN’T I?!

Henry didn’t have much to say about this. Apparently, when I call him at work, he’s actually working, and doesn’t have “time” to care about my “problems.”

Back in the office, Carrie sent out an email saying that the first drawing was going to happen at 2:30. Glenn was all Glennish about this because he leaves at 2:30 everyday. I could barely hear his bitching overtop of my own pitiful wails of, “I WANT THAT WAFFLE MAKER SO BAD! I’M GOING TO PEE MY PANTS! OMG MY STOMACH HURTS.”

“Oh Jesus Christ, if I win the waffle maker, you can have it,” Glenn mumbled, slapping his tickets on my desk on his way out.

“SERIOUSLY?!” I cried.

“Yeah. I don’t want to have to hear about it if you lose,” he grumbled. I wonder what he put his other tickets in for. Probably this old army lunch box thing that someone donated.

At 2:31, Sue came over with two bags and had Carrie and Allison pick a ticket out of each one.

One of them was for the first waffle maker.

I was bouncing from foot to foot in anticipation, clutching all of my tickets in my hands. (The winning number for each item was emailed to the whole department, so no one but me bothered to actually go over and watch this happen.)

Allison drew in her breath and turned away from me a little.

“What?” I asked nervously.

Then Carrie looked at the ticket that Allison drew and she made a strangulated noise as well.

“WHAT? IS IT MINE?!” I yelled, knowing that it probably wasn’t because they didn’t know what numbers I had. So it must have been someone who wrote their name on the back. OH GOD PLEASE BE GLENN! I prayed. And then I felt gross for rooting for Glenn.

“It’s Amber,” Carrie said quietly.

DON’T BE A SORE LOSER, ERIN. GO SIT DOWN AND BE A GROWN-UP, ERIN. THERE IS STILL ANOTHER WAFFLE MAKER, ERIN.

Amber was so happy that she won, and I wanted to be happy for her too! I really did! When she walked past me to claim her prize, she stopped cheering and said, “Aw, but I feel bad!”

“IT’S FINE,” I tried to say in a happy, supportive tone but it came out through gritted teeth because OMG WHY AM I SUCH A BRAT. “I never win anything anyway, so I’m used to it,” I added just in case I hadn’t already come off as an industrial-sized, leaking douchebag.

WHY AM I SUCH A CRYBABY. There were no less than 87 moments that day when I floated outside of my body and looked down upon myself, frowning in disappointment. I guess, at least I’m aware?

A few minutes later, I went to get something off the printer and ran into Carrie, who was making copies. “Hey,” she said. “If you don’t win the other one, I’ll bring one in for you. I have one in my kitchen that I never use, and I swear you can have it. It’s not as fancy as this one, but it’s still good.”

And at this moment, I realized that I needed to stop thinking of Carrie as “Barb’s Replacement” because she is an awesome lady in her own right and has seamlessly fit right into our department in less than two weeks. CARRIE, YOU CAN STAY.

Seriously, that was a really touching moment. Until you remember that this was all over A WAFFLE MAKER.

A.WAFFLE.MAKER.

I mean, waffles are the motherfucking jam, but are they worth this much drama? Probably not. But I was already up to my neck in it. Now I had to see this through. I shouldn’t have let myself drift off into all of the daydreams about opening a waffle stand in my front yard, mass-producing edible Frisbees (Waffbees? Frisfles?), costing Henry an arm and a leg in upscale waffle ingredients and a camera upgrade because you can’t eat fancy waffles without photographing it on a stained pallet surrounded by baby’s breath and monogrammed-stamped baby forks.

I was really getting ahead of myself. Goddammit.

Throughout the afternoon, more drawings took place, but there was so much time in between each one that it felt like when you’re taking a test in school and all you can hear is the methodic, amplified ticking of the clock.

Wendy ended up winning the weird army lunch box thing, and I have no idea why she even put in any tickets for that. It was probably just her against Glenn. And then Patrick basically won everything else because he’s a baller and bought like an entire spool of tickets.

Todd came back from lunch before the final waffle maker was won, and he asked me with faux-interest if anyone had won them yet.

It was hard to push the words out around my big, pouty bottom lip, but I somehow mustered the strength to tell him that Amber had won the first one.

“All that was missing was the trumpets,” I said melodramatically, and Todd started laughing. And then he said something along the lines of, “There, there. You still have one more chance.”

Right before the end of the day, Sue walked over to Amber’s desk with the waffle maker ticket bag and told her since she won the first one, she had to draw the ticket for the second.

“Oh no, Erin’s fate is in my hands!” she said, and I was so nervous that I got up and walked around. I DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO KNOW, YOU GUYS.

Sue gave the drawn ticket to Carrie, who in turn sent out the email to the department. I figured it was going to be Patrick, since he had a billion tickets in each bag.

And then I heard, “OMG I WON THE SECOND ONE TOO!”

My first reaction was: WAH!

My second reaction was: OMG CAN I HAVE IT!!!???

“Can I give it to Erin?” Amber asked Carrie, who shrugged and said she didn’t give a basic fuck.

“SERIOUSLY?!?!?!” I screamed as Amber passed it off to me like the goddamn Olympic torch.

“Yeah, I don’t need two!” she laughed. “Now we can both have one!”

AND THAT IS HOW WE WERE ABLE TO LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

Allison was just like, “Wow. What a relief.” I keep forgetting that she is still relatively new. We must look like a gang of fucking imbeciles to her.

“Wait. There’s something I have to do,” I said, and I walked over to Lou’s office with my waffle maker. “I just wanted you to see what I looked like holding the waffle maker,” I gloated, and he kind of hung his head a little and told me I’m mean.

SORE LOSER AND SORE WINNER. That’s me.

But don’t feel too bad for Lou, because the last drawing of the day was for the biggest prize of all: a hug from Ethan, who absolutely hates hugs. And Lou won! He seemed happier with that than he would have been with a waffle maker. Me? I preferred the waffle maker because I, too, hate hugs.

Here’s a picture of my reflection while waiting for the elevator, with my WAFFLE MAKER IN MY ARMS! Amber, you are the best! We should have a waffle party!

****

When I got into the car after work, Henry did one of his patented mirthless-laughs and shook his head. “Great,” he mumbled.

I quickly relayed the day’s events to him and he said, “Were you a sore loser? Why am I asking. I know you were.”

Later that night, Henry, upon realizing that he had never even heard of the brand, googled the company’s name and discovered that it doesn’t even exist outside of eBay.

Buy It Now: $6.95.

I bought $6 worth of tickets, and I probably would have had to also pay for shipping, so all in all it’s still a deal if you ask me.

“It’s probably going to burn down the house,” Henry mumbled.

I’m going to use the FUCK out of this thing. And by that, I mean that I’m going to search the FUCK out of the Internet for waffle recipes to send to Henry.

****

In case you were wondering how the winning hug played out, here’s a video! A group of us gathered around noon and formed a big circle around Lou and Ethan, so it was like they were inside of a hug while hugging. It was fucking precious.

Apologies to all of my co-workers who probably have a waffle aversion after all of this. It escalated pretty quickly.

I can only imagine how disgruntled this waffle ordeal would have made the other Amber if this happened before she went on maternity leave. I can practically hear her saying, “Oh for God’s sake!”

The “I Hate Every Single Fucker In This Line Right Now Why Can’t You Make Some Damn Friends So I Don’t Have to See Circa Survive 8 Times A Year I Need a Fat Sausage To Plug My Food Hole Hey There’s ANTHONY GREEN OMG!!!” shot. 

The “All Of These Chon Songs Sound Exactly the Same So I’m Just Gonna Stand Here and Pin Recipes How Are People Dancing To This?!” shot. 

The “I’m Secretly Singing Along To Every Circa Song In My Head OMG ARE THOSE TWO GIRLS MAKING OUT OVER THERE????” shot. 

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.

The “Henry’s Sleeping; What a Shocker” shot. 

The “Tried To Snap Henry Turning Off the Light Before Leaving the House, But He Moved Too Fast” failed shot. 

The “Henry Driving Professionally to Target” shot. 

 The “Henry Is Picking Out New Underroos” shot.

 The “Henry Can’t Find the Bread Aisle” shot. 

 The “Henry Can’t Believe a Store This Big Has Such a Small Bread Selection” shot. 

 The “‘WHERE ARE THE FUCKING BUNS?!’ Henry Cried” shot. 

 The “Henry Can Use the Self-Check Out Because He’s Not Buying Robitussin” shot. 

The “Henry Just Yelled at Me and Then Looked Around to See If Anyone Heard” shot. 

  
The “Henry’s In the Kitchen Where He Belongs” shot. 

  
The “Henry Thru Church Grass; Don’t Ask” shot. 

  
The “Henry Got Sucked Into Watching a YouTube Video of a Teenage Girl Playing Show n Tell with Everything She Bought at the Grocery Store & Now She’s Showing Him Coachella-Inspired Makeup” shot. 

(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.  

Bullet points, my favorite blogging cop-out! This will be especially beneficial to me since HENRY has been going to bed early all week and I haven’t had anyone to talk to at night! Lots to get off my chest. *(I started writing this on Thursday and now it’s Friday…so Thriday.)

• I’m currently extremely stressed out about hockey. If the Penguins lose tonight in New York, they’re done, you guys. Hockey heartbreak, every goddamn spring. (Game started. We’re losing.)
• Maternity Leave Amber had her baby on Monday! Super stoked for her, and even more stoked for her to come back to work. That’s soon, right? Like, yesterday? :(
  • In other work news, Barb’s replacement started on Monday. I’m too sad/numb to write anything more about that. SIGH. BARB. 
    • Except that I mentioned to Nate that at least it’s not Henry’s ex-wife. Nate said, “What if it was her?! Hashtag awkward.” I said, “Then one of us would probably be dead,” and Nate said somberly, “Hashtag dead.” That was a real, verbatim conversation that I might need to remember one day. You’re welcome, Future Erin.
• I don’t think I’ve been on this level of excitement for Warped Tour since maybe 2008 or 2009. I seriously think about it everyday and my special edition Choonimals 3D ticket came last week so now I’m really jumping around the house like a freak. I was making Henry watch Warped Tour survival videos on YouTube Wednesday night and he was like “And you wonder why I want to go to bed at 7:30 every night.”
  • I want Henry to make his own Warped Tour survival video now!! And then he can link to his OOTD (Barb, that means “outfit of the day”) video at the end.

• Rude things Henry has said to me this week:
  • I’m cheap and easy
  • I’m a toaster-operating moron (SORRY IF I DIDN’T KNOW THERE IS A TIME LIMIT FOR POP-TARTS?!)
  • I sound like a clown when I sneeze (actually a compliment, so fuck you, Henry)
  • I’m stuck-up
• Speaking of being stuck-up, yesterday my new workBFF Allison told me that shewas scared of me on her first day and that she thought I was goingto be “the mean one” of the group because she sat across from me in a meeting and I looked mad. “Oh, I always look like that in those meetings!” I laughed. And then I added, “How could you think I was mean when I have so much awesome stuff on my desk? Like zombie stuff and….” “Yeah, that didn’t do much to help,” Allison laughed.
  • This made me think of a few weeks ago when Amber the Original AG¹ told me that when she first started working at The Law Firm in 2011, I was only working late shift then so she never actually saw me, but one time she had to walk past my desk. And based on that, she had this impression that I was a really scary goth person. One time she was working late shift too, and one of the analysts (Tyler; he left in 2012 and we all still miss him so much!) came back to his office near Amber’s desk and mentioned off-handedly that he was over on the other side, talking to me, and Amber was like, “EW WHY!?” But then she finally met me and realized that I am an adorable sweetheart baby doll thing. I love this story!
• I’m still on a heavy Pvris kick. Lynn makes the hairs stand up on my arms like whoa.

• My expression upon finding out that Henry has never heard Cutting Crew’s “Been In Love Before” was the same as when I found out he votedforDubya.
  • Shock and disgust. On my face.
• Me: “Marcy taught me about unconditional love.” Henry: Well, you didn’t learn much.”
• Guys, remember when Henry pitched a fit because I didn’t turn off the lights and TV and lock the door last week? PROOF THAT I LISTENED:

Corey’s comment about my lock-turning seeming rusty is spot-on, you guys. Also, I was bragging about some person commenting that I’m “seriously the best” and “so funny and pretty,” and Henry was like, “Yeah. I saw that. That kid is like 7.” But still. It’s a step-up from my imaginary friend saying it. Kind of.

• Last Friday, Sandy arranged a late shift happy hour. It was the first happy hour I was able to make it to in A LONG TIME and it was really great. Even though Lou and Ethan were with us. But Lucas was there too and that was only the second time I’ve hung out with him outside of work in 5 years. (The first was last September when we were volunteer mulchers. That was pretty terrible.) The reason I’m mentioning this is because I realized that in the last almost-year that I’ve been in my current position, I actually feel like I’m part of the department again, and even though I might still have “bad” days here and there (who doesn’t?), I really am so much happier now. I can’t really write too much on here aboutthedarkside of my job because let’s be a Smart Blogger, right? But I just feel a lot more appreciated now and it’s nice to hear a “thank you for your help today” every now and again, you know?
  • And also because Ethan was whining about wanting a corned beef sandwich (we were at Sammy’s and theirs’ are “famous”) but not unless someone else would get one too because he didn’t want to be the only person eating, but I was like, “Corned beef is a vegetarian’s nightmare” and Lou was like, “Corned beef is disgusting” and Sandy was too fixated on the popcorn situation. So finally, Lucas was like, “Fine. I’ll get one too” and then they got up to go to the corned beef counter together, like two girls who couldn’t go to the bathroom alone.

• Henry finally got his hair cut so no more topknot.Whompwhomp.
  • In other top knot news, Henry flipped out because I wanted coffee but I refused to go into the coffee place we were near because I’m allergic to hipsters. (WHY DO THEY HAVE TO HAVE GOOD TASTE IN COFFEE?! I want them to just be satisfied with Starbucks or McCafe.) When Henry came back to the car, he shoved my iced coffee at me and said, “AND THE GUY HAD A TOP KNOT!” Oh Henry.
  • I accidentally (I’m 35 and still insist spelling this “accidently”) watched a recent Jonny Craig video on YouTube and stated cracking up because I forgot he too is going through a topknot phase.
    • As if Henry is actually “going through a topknot phase.” That knot was on top of his head for approx. 8 seconds last week.

• Tuesday (4/21) was Robert Smith’s birthday! I always feel strange on this day because I’m like YAY ROBERT I LOVE YOU but also I can’t help but remember that it’s my quitiversary from that awful meat place I worked at for 4 years. Coincidentally,thelady I shared an office with (a/k/a my Original Work Mom, Carol) commented on this picture I posted of Robert on Facebook and said, “Still perfectly coiffed as always.” I drove her nuts with my constantCurefan-girling. I miss her. I should make her go to lunch with me soon.
  • I wore my Robert pendant to work and made sure to tell everyone it’s his birthday because this is important. When ItoldA-ron, he said, “Oh, The Smiths, right?” totally on purpose and I shouted down the hall at him, “THAT’S OFFENSIVE!” Then I came back to my desk and told Glenn and Todd, who didn’t get it, so I scoffed, “Robert and Morrissey hate each other. Everyone knows that!”
    • GOD!!!
  • Then I was mad because the AltPress instagram posted a birthday picture of Robert and all these bratty kids hijacked the post, whining that it was some Black Veil Bride asshole’s birthday too, totally taking away from Robert, so then AP gave that d-bag his own birthday shoutout, like who cares about a BVB birthday!? Ugh. THAT’S OFFENSIVE.
• The most exciting thing that happened today was when I was pulling folders out of a filing cabinet and got  A REALLY BAD PAPER CUT. It was basically the HNNGGGGGH  heard around the department. It was kind of embarrassing how many far away people stopped in their tracks and said, “Oh no, paper cut?” (OK, two people.) My first instinct was to cry, “AND I DON’T HAVEANYMORECANDYLANDBANDAIDS!” which made Todd lose it. Glenn was like, “Oh for Christ’s sake” and got me a boring, old person bandage out of his dumb drawer. He even opened it for me! “We’re going to hear about this all day,” he muttered after I snatched it from him.
  • When Gayle got to work, I stopped her and cried, “I GOT A PAPER CUT TODAY,GAAAAAAYLE” and then we were all talking about how shocked we were that Glenn cared enough to give me a bandage but he said, “You didn’t see the Bio-Hazard sticker on it?” Ugh.
    • Then I washed my hands and it started to fall off, so I used some leftover Jesus stickers from last year’s Easter Glenn Hunt to hold it together:

    

    • Fuck this week.

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.

A few weeks ago, Janna sent this devastating message to my cellular phone. Naturally, I sent it to Corey and then also posted it on Instagram with the hashtags #JannaWhite #Heisenjanna #JannaMakesMeth and Corey immediately piggybacked with #JannasDoubleLife #JannaPaystheToll and #LockYourMedicineCabinets

I was laughing so hard about this that I started to see sparks in my vision. Henry of course was scowling because he just doesn’t understand. It’s the generation gap, I think. Probably.

A couple nights later, Janna and Corey came over because we were going to attend a Tenebrae service at my old friend Brian’s church. Brian is actually the music director at the church. I haven’t seen him in years (he lived in Nebraska for awhile) and I’ve always wanted to attend a Tenebrae service, so this seemed perfect. Janna agreed to go even though she was sick, and she showed up at my house with an entire box of Kleenex in tow. And then Corey said he wanted to go too, because Church on a Saturday night?!?! Yes, please!

I tweeted something about this and Barb immediately said something along the lines of how we better behave, which made me crack up, because what a horrible idea, Corey and I going to church together.

On the way to the church, Janna told us the Robitussin story. In a nutshell, she tried to go through the self check-out line and it wouldn’t work so a clerk had to come over type in codes and then that still didn’t work, so then they made her go to a regular checkout line, at which point she was asked for her ID and she didn’t have it on her.

“I kind of threw a fit and just slammed the bottle down into the candy bars and left,” she said, and Corey and I were crying over this image of Janna hulking out over needing ID to buy cough syrup. Then apparently she went to the bathroom and when she came out of the stall, the manager was waiting and accused her of stealing the Robitussin and taking it into the bathroom to slurp it in privacy, so then she had to take the manager over to the checkout line and prove that she left it there.

The whole point here is that Janna was sick as fuck and had a coughing fit during the Tenebrae service and had to excuse herself, which made Corey and I start cracking up in God’s House. It was even worse when she left, because she had been separating us, so now we were able to see each other laughing, and that just made it worse and oh god, my kidneys. I had to turn to the side and cover my face with my hair so that I wouldn’t see Corey in my periphery and that hopefully none of the somber church-goers would notice that I was red-faced and crying in the back pew. (Yes, we were smart enough to sit in the back pew.)

Meanwhile, some old man in front of me had pulled out his phone and was blatantly recording the service and kept slowly panning from left to right, so I was like, “Well, if this dildo is going to be so obvious, then I’m at the very least going to grab a quick Instavid.”

So I did, but then it started PLAYING BACK AT FULL VOLUME. I was like “Abort! Abort!” and ended up accidentally deleting the video in the end, but at least no one seemed to notice what was happening because the singing was so loud.

Janna eventually came back and Corey and I were bracing ourselves for another laughing fit, which started as soon as we heard her rummaging in her pocket for a cough drop, followed by the rustling of the wrapper as she opened it.

Maybe I should quickly inform you what a tenebrae service is. It’s like a Roman Catholic church thing that happens around Easter. It’s supposed to start out with all these candles lit, right? And then as the service goes on, the candles are extinguished one by one until the church is all dark by the end, and then there is supposed to be a loud bang, signifying the earthquake that followed Jesus’s death, and then everyone is supposed to leave in silence.

These things did not happen. Some candles were snuffed out, that part is true. But the overhead lights stayed on the whole time and there was no apocalyptic bang at the end! I was pretty bummed about that, because in my mind, this thing was billed as a Scary Church Event.

Actually, now that I’m looking at the poster, it says nothing at all about tenebrae. I KNOW THAT THE FACEBOOK EVENT DID THOUGH.

Luckily, the music and the singing were actually really sad and beautiful (Song of the Shadows, y’all), which obviously is my favorite kind. One of the soloists is an attorney-by-day, and Corey and I were obsessed with her. She was also in the Miss America pageant once! Maybe I’m making that up! I can’t remember! Where’s my program when I need it?!

I paid real money to light a candle! I didn’t cheat the church! #newleaf #Ijustlikefire

We were going to just leave after the bang-less ending, especially since Janna was feenin’ for her ‘tussin, but then Brian grabbed the mic to thank everyone for something and urged everyone to stick around for the reception. And then he said the magic words:

Sugary treats.

Corey and I exchanged looks of exaggerated merriment. “Sugary treats!” we mouthed to each other around Janna, who was looking like she might pass out at this point.

We followed those “in the know” out of the church and across the street into an adjacent building, where tables of sugary treats were set up in a small room. Right before we entered the room, Janna had a truncated coughing fit and some old man amiably commented that “uh oh, someone sounds sick!” I almost died. Janna was drawing attention from The Olds. Maybe they could have a cough drop exchange in the parking lot.

We were among the first to forage for sugary treats, THANK GOD.

It was difficult to be so close to the parishioners because I was giddy. The Laughter was threatening to eject from my mouth at any given moment, so I made sure to not make eye contact with anyone. I filled my plate with the critically acclaimed sugary treats and hightailed it to the back of the room, where Corey and Janna joined me and we proceeded to stand in a suspicious circle, looking totally out of place, and giggling nervously. The unfortunate part of our location was that it was near the garbage can, so a steady stream of church-goers kept interrupting our heretic huddle in order to pitch their empty punch cups.

Finally, Janna had enough of this and brusquely picked up the trash can and then slammed it down a few feet away from us, so it was just chilling alone in the middle of the floor. Corey and I were like, “HOLY SHIT, JANNA IS SO VIOLENT WHEN SHE’S SICK!” She had this “Nothing is funny right now” look on her face, which just made us laugh even harder, and there is a thing that you should know about my brother: he has a REALLY LOUD LAUGH. The kind that ricochets off walls and bald heads and causes all eyes to fixate on us. It is simultaneously hilarious and embarrassing.

I think this was before Janna slammed the garbage can down.

Some old lady came over and asked, “IS THIS ON?!” because there was a coffee maker on the counter next to us. I was like, “Bitch who knows?” so she pushed a button and cold water squirted out, so she was like, “I guess not” and then walked away. Even this was hysterical to us. And then another old lady attempted to get water out of a water cooler but it was empty, so she shouted, “YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME THERE’S NO WATER” and then Janna pointed out that there were bottles of water on the counter, so the lady was like, “I’M TAKING ONE” and then stormed away. I think Corey wanted her to be his spirit animal. He was pretty entranced. Everything just seemed like a blatant parody that night, like all of these people were walking caricatures put in this room just to test our resistance to cracking up. Newsflash: our threshold is ridiculously low.

I wanted another peanut butter thing, but I was afraid to go back to the table because the room was way more crowded and everyone knew each other, which meant they knew that I didn’t belong. IT WAS SCARY.

After awhile, I decided that we looked too suspicious, so we went out into the hallway to wait for Brian, and this is where I honestly came very close to peeing my pants, so I cried out, “DON’T MAKE ME PEE I’M WEARING A SKIRT!” and possibly people heard this, but everything was So Funny!

“I feel like we’re a sleeper cell,” I blurted out, and Corey was like, WTF is that so I explained it to him and he was like, “WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT!?” I don’t know, actually. It seemed to make sense at the time because we moved in a tight huddle everywhere we went, like we didn’t want religion to penetrate us.

Corey kept hashtagging everything that was happening (there was even a #tenebraeslut!) and Janna was like “#canwegonow” but I wanted to say hello to Brian since he invited me there, after all. We ended up having to go back to the church to see him, because he had slipped out of the Sugary Treats Room to go back to his office. On the way there, Janna reminded us for the 87th time that she was really sick, so I told her she could just wait in the car as long as she didn’t spill her syrup everywhere. But she just sighed and trudged along after us.

Brian gave really bad directions to me via Facebook messenger so we ended up in parts of the church that we probably shouldn’t have been. (Corey started to walk into a room right behind the altar and came backing out in a hurry, waving his arms in “DANGER WILL ROBINSON” motion. He said there were two men back there, reading the Bible.*)

*(Literally reading the Bible, you guys. This isn’t some weird Altar Boy euphemism.)

We eventually found him, and it turns out the problem is that I just didn’t understand “front of the church” versus “back of the church.” So we had a quick reunion with Brian, who pelted Janna with a handful of cough drops for the road, and then we left before the whole Church thing started to make us soft, like we’d start picturing Jesus frowning at us every time we started to laugh at Janna’s pratfalls. The whole night was almost funnier than the “Janna Stole Her Mom’s Car” incident.

Almost.

Janna was like, “I NEED TO GO HOME AND DIE” — which obviously is drug addict speak for “I need to go sit on the bathroom floor and drink my Sizzurp” — so she left as soon as we got back to my house. But Corey stayed for awhile and we giddily filled Henry in on the evening’s events, and he laughed at exactly zero parts. Then Corey drew a picture of Janna drinking Robitussin and we were both crying while Henry shook his head disapprovingly and Chooch drank in the bad influence filling the air around him.

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.

I haven’t done a Frown of the Day in forever, so I thought I’d start a new series.    

The “There’s Some Jackass Behind Me On the Trolley” selfie. 

The “He’s Still There” selfie. 

The “Henry’s Not Back There Because We Beat Him Home But We Don’t Have a House Key So Now We’re Waiting For Him In the Wind” selfie. 

The “Henry’s Getting Gas So We Can Get Ice Cream” selfie. 

The “Goldilocks Is Having Ice Cream Ordering Remorse, Much To Henry’s Delight” selfie. (srsly, that did NOT taste like red velvet soft serve & the lady at Sugar & Spice swore that it was too melty to put my beloved crunchies on it, WHICH WAS THE WHOLE REASON I CHOSE SOFT SERVE OVER HARD ICE CREAM IN THE FIRST PLACE!)

The “Henry Sounds Like He’s Having Oral Sex Every Time He Eats Oranges & He Knows It Annoys Me So Now He Exaggerates It” selfie.

GUYS I HAVE TO GO. Mr. Mister’s “Broken Wings” just came on my bedroom radio and I have to go slow dance with myself. 

(That is not an euphemism.)

EDIT: And then Whitesnake’s “Is This Love” right after?! Wow, what a fucking treat from the local variety radio station. 

Clearly, Dance Gavin Dance is one of my favorite bands in the whole entire world, so when they offered an extremely limited edition mega-bundle pre-order that included hand-written lyrics, my brain was like DO NOT EVEN LOOK AT THE PRICE JUST FUCKING PURCHASE! So I did and Henry was like, “That’s fine. I didn’t need to buy groceries this week.” Except that he kept those surly sentiments in his head because he knows better than to get lippy with me when it comes to band stuff.

I got my pre-order in the mail last week, and a day later, the lyrics were sent directly from Tilian Pearson! (I was very happy with the song that was chosen for me, too! Although, I would have been happy with any of them, to be honest, because this new album is perfection.) I couldn’t wait to go out and buy a frame for the lyrics, but then I was like, “HENRY CAN YOU MAKE ME A MAT OUT OF THE INSTANT GRATIFICATION ALBUM ART?!” and he did it because he is the fucking best in the whole entire world and I love him.

(I only love him when he’s doing shit for me, FYI. I haven’t turned soft on you.)

And now it’s on the wall, right next to the DGD painting I made back in 2008 out of the DGD t-shirt that Christina bought for me that fit too awkwardly.

I’m so happy right now. It’s the little things, guys.

And a big shout out to Mattias Adolfsson, the phenomenal artist who designed most of DGD’s album covers. I am infatuated with him.

I was trying to call my dad, Henry on a payphone but I didn’t have change. Some girl behind us laughed and It was weird. Oh, and I was singing Payphone by: Maroon 5. Mommy said I was a mess and dirty so mommy kept yelling at me. Also before we went on the T a bee flew past my face and I got scared it was going to sting me like another dickhead bee did when I was walking home from school with my mom. And I went to Sunoco with Mark and his mom. Sunoco never had a Shake and Smoothie machine so I got a smoothie. It was a really good Strawberry Banana Smoothie. It was $3.05 and Daddy only gave me $2.21 for Sunoco. So Mark’s mom had to pay for the rest. When I got home, I told mommy that I didn’t have enough money for the smoothie so Mark’s mom had to pay the rest. Mommy gave me $2.00 to give to Mark’s mom. Because she didn’t want her to thing we are mooches. And on the T there was a little girl who couldn’t wait to sit next to me she was looking at my phone, too.

It was the Anime Convention in Pittsburgh, PA and Daddy probably had a CRUSHY on this girl in a PRETTY dress, O.O!  I was sort of bored and my legs were tired I felt like I  was going to collapse. When ever I walk for a long time my legs start to wobble.

Daddy is a misbehaved, and idiotic Dad. He goes to Ice Cream places and beer stores because he likes beer. I really don’t know what else to say about him  that’s really it.

It’s Thursday. Let’s have words.

• It’s Food Drive season as work and the person in charge for our department is kind of mean about it and her emails lack the proper amount of enthusiastic punctuation so I have not felt inclined to donate any dusty cans of stewed tomatoes that might have fallen behind the kitchen shelf. (I save those for Warped Tour so I can skip the line!) But then Sue sent out an email today that said anyone who brings in a jar of peanut butter tomorrow can wear jeans, so I will be doing that. Actually, I asked Glenn as he was leaving if he would bring in one for me but he just tossed me a scowl over his shoulder, so I feel like I shouldn’t put too much stock in him.
  • There is also a bake sale happening in order to raise money for the Food Bank, which would be awesome if I wasn’t forever on a diet.
• Tonight is Game 1 of the Pens/Rangers playoff series and I am not anticipating it one bit. We barely even made it into the playoffs this year so my hopes are not very high. Actually, my hopes don’t even exist.
  • Someone brought in a pan of brownies for the food drive bake sale and my hockey anxiety has me considering bringing the whole fucking pan back to my desk.
• YOU GUYS yesterday after Henry picked me up from work, I swear to God I saw Paul Eugene walking down the sidewalk!! Henry was like, “That is not him” and I said, “SCREAM PAUL EUGENE OUT THE WINDOW!!!” but Henry wouldn’t so I guess now we’ll never know.
• There’s some article going around on Facebook about how Brookline is “suddenly hip” and I’m a bit irritated that no one thought to consult me for this newsworthy write-up.
  • And then that same day, there was a stand-off in Brookline, so….
  • Also, I find it concerning that there was no mention of all the hip drunks around town.
• My Dance Gavin Dance pre-order finally was delivered yesterday! I was frantically tracking it all morning and when I saw that it had been delivered at 10:33am, this went down:

OK so yay! Henry left work to get my package off the front porch, but then he just LEFT IT IN THE HOUSE!? Like, he couldn’t have brought it downtown for me!? So then I texted him later in the afternoon because I wanted to remind him to bring the CD with him when he came to pick me up so that I could listen to it in the car, but he said he wasn’t going home firat first!?

THE WORST!!!!!! Then last night, Henry saw that I posted these screencaps on Instagram and he claims that “No problem” was something he had sent to me earlier in the morning about something else, but “for some reason” it resent it after my crazy text torrent. I’m actually inclined to believe him because when I first got that text, I thought to myself, “Wow. What an even-keeled response to my CAPSLOCK jamboree.”

Me, after coming home from work and tearing open the package. 

• In other DGD news, I’ve been talking about them so much that Todd felt inclined to listen to their new album yesterday on Spotify, He made it about 20 seconds into the first song before stopping to share his commentary: “It was real mellow at first, like some Adam Levine shit, but then all of a sudden it turned metal…?” And then later he asked, “Why are they so angry?!” And that’s funny, because to me this isn’t angry music at all!
• Today, Glenn was like “Well? Where’s all your gear?” And I was like “My what now?” “Your gear. All the gear you got yesterday that we had to hear about all day.” LOL. “Gear.” Like anyone calls it that!!!
• Here at work, when we’re not all gushing over the new DGD album, we’ve been on some hardcore Amber G. Baby Watch. I have been checking in with her every day and reporting back to everyone, but I’m trying not to be some crazy Birth Sentinel because I know that would annoy me if people were constantly texting me about my dilation status. It’s going to be so weird when she comes back to work and isn’t pregnant anymore, because I think we all had grown so accustomed to tip-toeing around her. (She could be pretty snarly in her pregnant state!)

• • Maybe tonight’s hockey game will induce labor.
• A conversation that happened last night while watching Breaking Bad:

Me: “Can I give you a top knot?”
Henry: “What is a top knot….?”
Me: “Just say yes.”
Henry: “No.”
Me: *gives him top knot anyway*
Henry: “WHAT IS IT?! No!”

His new look was wildly celebrated on Facebook, but he shockingly did not wear it to work today.

• Hay guys, the hockey game just started and the Rangers scored 20-some seconds in. MAYBE I’LL HAVE A BROWNIE AFTER ALL.
• Amber, did you have your baby yet?
• This might be the dumbest blog post title I’ve ever made up. I quit. 
• Chooch has been on a Fall Out Boy kick recently (primarily their recent album) and I got to be That Person who bragged about seeing them in 2004, pre-commercial success, when all of my friends were like, “WHO are you going to see?!” (Oh wait, that’s present-day too!)
• Today, I made the mistake of telling Glenn that my knee hurt. I tweaked it a few months ago when I was exercising and every now and then it starts hurting again. So glenn offered me “Advil” and I stupidly took it without checking to make sure it was legit and not something he cut in the woodshed/lab in his backyard. His fake drugs did not cure my knee but I think there was a connection between that and my extreme drowsiness all day. Luckily, my new BFF Allison gave me real, name brand Advil later on and then my knee felt OK. 
• UM, so I have been home from late shift for like 2 hours and just noticed that there was an envelope addressed to me, casually strewn upon the dining room table. The return address was THE ARTERY FOUNDATION so I knew immediately that it was going to bey handwritten DGD lyrics and IT WAS so I flipped out on Henry and screamed HOW LONG WERE YOU GOING TO HIDE THIS FROM ME?! and he claims he “didn’t know” what it was?! I was like THE POSTMARK CLEARLY STATES THAT ITS FROM SACRAMENTO WHAT ELSE WOULD I POSSIBLY BE GETTING FROM SACRAMENTO?! My god Henry fails as a scene kid’s boyfriend. I guess now that he wears a topknot, he’s only interested in watching Coachella videos on YouTube. 

• Amber, did you have the baby yet?

Hey friends! From now until the end of May, I’m donating 20% of my Somnambulant sales to Animal Friends in Pittsburgh! WHO DOESN’T LOVE ANIMALS?! Well, probably serial killers and ISIS. But mostly everyone else loves animals because animals are a billion times more awesome than people!

And don’t forget, Mother’s Day is coming up, and maybe your mom likes serial killers?

SERIAL KILLER PARADE

Or maybe music is your Band-Aid and you want everyone to know?

MUSIC HEALS

 Got a thing for Twin Peaks?

LOG LADY!

Did you just have a baby, know someone who just had a baby, or are you just super into retro children’s TV shows?

MISTER ROGERS!

Anyway, there is a ton more over at Somnambulant, so go check it out and pass it on!

This concludes my half-assed commercial for my art-things.

You’re dismissed.

Henry was sick or something last night and went to bed early, leaving Chooch and me to put ourselves to bed later on in the night. In the morning, I called Henry on my walk to the trolley and he said, “Oh, and just so you know, when I got up for work this morning, the lights were on, the TV was on, the window was open, and the front door was open. Not just unlocked, but OPEN. What the fuck, did you and Chooch decide it was ready for bed and just run away?”

I started doing that throaty laugh that I do when I’m guilty. I had a vague recollection of just not caring to turn everything off and shut the door, because who can be bothered with things like that. “Well, Chooch was the last one down there!” I cried in defense.

“Oh that’s great. Leave it up to the 8-year-old to lock up,” Henry sighed before asking me if I had left for work yet. “It sounds quiet out there. Usually there are all kinds of tragic things happening to you while you’re walking.” (YOU GUYS DON’T KNOW HOW TRAUMATIC IT IS TO WALK TO THE TROLLEY, OK?! THINGS HAPPEN TO ME.)

“Well, I did almost just get kidnapped,” I said.

“What? How?” Henry asked, not sounding concerned like I had hoped, but mostly just amused.

“A van just drove past me. You never know.”

***

After work, Henry was giving me dirty looks for simply taking a drink from a large bottle of water. Apparently, I “guzzle” it like I’m “in the desert” and this is “annoying.”

“What?!” I cried. “I bought this all on my own before I got on the trolley this morning,”  I added, trying to change the subject to one of my few accomplishments in life.

“Wow. That’s amazing. Maybe next you’ll learn how to shut the door and turn everything off before you go to bed,” Henry patronized.

God, when will he stop trying to change me!?

                        ***

Henry just now lectured Chooch and I together on the “shutting down for bed” procedure and we are cracking the FUCK UP. 

“Yeah, you’ll be laughing when you come downstairs in the morning and a crackhead is sitting on the couch,” Henry yelled before telling Chooch to always make sure the door is locked and the lights are off, since Henry can’t rely on me I guess. 

Henry is like OBSESSED with “turning things off” and “locking the door.”