Fine, fine so I'm fixating on the horse because of my ab insecurities

I'm so tired.

But I'm also very happy. Happy you can’t see my backyard, that is. It’s an embarrassment. Chuck and I have neglected it for two years. No mowing, no clipping, no raking, no pruning. Nothing. When Chuck goes outside to grill I tie a rope to his foot so if the weed things grab him I can pull him back inside.

Now that Junior’s nearing two, we’d like to have a yard that’s not going to eat him. That’s reasonable, right? So we made a list of backyard improvement projects and asked Chuck’s friends to barter their sober services. (We all know what happens when you mix tequila and home improvement projects—you end up with pile of grass seed and five guys taking bets on who can piss over it higher).

After four months we finally had a taker.

Chuck’s friend Aaron—who looks exactly like Van Gogh, crazy eyes and everything—said he’d help Chuck lay bricks for a patio if I looked after his three-and-a-half year old son, Jake. It seemed like a fair trade. Except that Jake, like his dad, is a royal pain in the ass know-it-all. I’m serious. A conversation with Aaron goes like this:

Me: “When Junior cried as a baby I—”

Aaron: “Jake never cried. We used the Ferber method, the Elizabeth Pantley method, the Baby Whisperer method and the Molly McButter method. Talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk you’re an idiot and I’m brilliant talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk talk.”

After an hour of pre-paver chit chat, my head was close to exploding, but I reminded myself that thanks to Aaron, we’d have a lovely new patio. I put Junior down for his nap and got out my tub of crayons so Jake and I could spend a few hours coloring (ha! how naive is that?).

Now look, I’d never say I hate a child but this is how it went down:

Me: “All right. What should we draw?”

Jake: “You say ‘all right’ too much.”

Me: “I didn’t realize that. I’m going to draw a horse.”

Jake: “That doesn’t look like a horse. You’re not a good drawer.”

Me: “I think my horse looks exactly like a horse, all right?”

Jake: “You say ‘all right’ too much.”

Me: “What are you drawing?”

Jake: “Do you have a big belly because there’s a baby in there?”

Me: “You think I have a big belly?”

Jake: “Yes. Your juice tastes funny. When our juice tastes funny my dad says it’s because it’s not fresh.”

Me: “I’m going to hit you with a rubber mallet right now. It shouldn’t hurt too much.”

I have a new agreement with Chuck: We will pay his friends in booze. I’d rather look out my window and see a whizzing contest than spend another afternoon in Crayola hell. And come on, my horse is the best horse ever.