Ice Cream and Chicken

I've been so preoccupied with bitching and moaning lately that I haven't had the energy to do any Chicken blogging except for the cursory "he's fine" and whatnot. Today, I said "Fuck it" and ran down the street (hobbled) after Chicken and his friends to take pictures at the ice cream truck. I wondered, as I snapped picture after picture if I was the weirdest mother on the block. I gave three boys five dollars (total) to get ice cream because I wanted to take pictures of them at the ice cream truck. And I ran (hobbled) down the street in a Guinness t-shirt, no bra, pajama bottoms and no shoes with camera in hand. Do you know what happens when you try to take pictures of three ten year old boys eating big fudge and banana popsicles? Yeah. It turns into amateur porn and I had to smack them all for deep throating their ice creams. Nice. Then I had an argument over my t-shirt with one of them, a young lad named Drew. He scoffed at the Guinness and I retorted and he ended up winning by the sheer fact that he's ten and he doesn't drink beer. Pussy.


Reminded me of "The Party" over the weekend. At one point many guests had gone, and Chicken was in the hot tub with his best friend Jesus (I shit you not, that is his name) and his new friend, Drew. I'd make up great nicknames for them but FUCK this unemployed thing takes a lot of time so there you have it. The boys wanted to go in the pool, but the pool is freezing so they just hung out in the jacuzzi. Now, Drew had recently broken his arm and still had temporary wrap on it. The doctor was waiting a couple days for the hard cast, I have no idea why. We at Sam's place don't break 'em our bones much. So... Drew kind of falls a bit and hits his broken arm. Not hard, but enough to see the pain on his face and I'm hoping I don't have to take him home (I hadn't met his mother yet at this point) and I don't want him to lose face by crying in front of the boys. Jesus decides that distraction is the best policy, and SLAPS Chicken across the face. Hard.

Now, I'm buzzed. Teddy Bear is fairly drunk (remember this is our reception so we're allowed) and all of us except poor Chicken laugh our asses off. I think I peed a little. Chicken has never been slapped like that by anyone, and after he gets done being stunned and a little pissed he sees the greater good in the whole thing. Next time someone gets hurt, just slap the shit out of someone else. It works. When you're ten. Or drunk.