Westerns and chicken legs

Okay, I wrote this when I was really friggin tired so don't judge me.




Booga was watching his dad’s western and saw a gun fight and said, “Ow, that’s gotta hurt.”

Earlier his father had stopped to get a chili dog because his blood sugar dropped and bought Booga a coke. When Booga asked why he couldn’t have a burger and a coke his dad told him that he had bought the chili dog because he has low blood sugar and if he didn’t eat something he might pass out. So Booga decided his blood sugar was low too and pretended that he was getting faint.
His dad didn’t buy it.
When his dad told me about it later at dinner in front of Booga, Booga must have been incensed because he said to his dad in a low voice, “You know what I’m gonna do?”
“What?” His dad said.
“I’m gonna take your McClintock VHS tape.”
Booga’s dad is a big John Wayne fan.
“Oh, so you’re going to take John Wayne.”
“Yes.”
“Do you like John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara?”
“Yes. He gets drunk and falls down the stairs.”
Which in that movie- he does….
I’ve heard them watching American Graffiti before but never a western.
It was funny listening to them talk about westerns; it’s not something I’d ever thought I would have heard the two of them talk about.
It was kind of sweet…
However, all of that went to heck in a handbag though because Booga found a chicken leg in the back of the refrigerator and praise God I live with him, because his father would have not even thought twice about the quality of chicken leg.
I told him he couldn’t eat it because I didn’t know how long it had been in there (personally I don’t want to think about how long it had been in there…Or why my husband would imagine it would be okay…) and that was pretty bad in Booga’s eyes, but what I did next would set him off on a spree of self-stimulation we haven’t seen since 2003.
I caught him cleaning off the counters with wood polish and I told him that we use that on the table and the bathroom cleaner on the counters….Pretty much shouldn’t have done that because the rest of the night was ruined for him and for hours his inner self struggled with why I would be so heinous as to insist on such a routine….I must be anal....
It was made worse because I kept trying to calm him down, but I finally gave up and let him go. It’s 12:06 AM and he’s still self-stimulating still.

Ah, life with Booga.