Being Henry by Henry Winkler

Author:Henry Winkler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Celadon Books

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I always thought it was important for our kids to have chores. Nevertheless, all three of them were great negotiators: I did their chores. And things were never simple with my very feisty daughter. Once I planned to take the three of them to a Dodgers game, and after extensive talks, I got Zoe to agree to pick up her room—a disaster area—before we left. The time came to go, and a glance into her room told me she hadn’t held up her end of the bargain.

“Zoe, come on,” I said. “You gotta put some of that clothing back on the hangers. You can’t just leave it all over the floor. Just put it on the hangers and then we’ll go.”

She grumbled what sounded like a grudging yes. And we left. Got to Dodger Stadium, sat down—and suddenly my face is on the Diamond Vision mega-screen. All at once, fifty-five thousand people start chanting, “Henry, Henry, Fonzie, Fonzie!”

“Dad, it’s so cool,” Zoe said. “Can you hear them?”

“No, I’m a mirage,” I said. “What do you mean, can I hear them?”

Finally, my image left the screen, the ball game was about to start, but the chanting didn’t stop. People, lots of them, surged around our seats. After a few minutes more of this, the security people had to come and escort us out of the stadium. And now we’re back in the car, going home. I let Jed drive—he’s now eighteen. And we’re listening to the ball game, the game we were supposed to see, on the radio. Zoe and Max were not happy. Jed, at the wheel, took on the role of family sage, discussing their father’s fame with them. “Listen,” he said. “Some people will want to be friends with you because of Dad. Some people will want to be friends with you because of you. You’ll know the difference.”

We got home. I walked by Zoe’s room and saw that it was still a mess. “Zoe,” I said, “we made a deal. You were gonna hang that stuff up before we left.”

She looked me in the eye. “If that crowd knew who you were, they wouldn’t even whisper your name,” she said. “I will never cheer your name.”

We stared at each other for a second. “Okay,” I finally said. “But anyway, hang up your clothes.”

Zoe had a bunny: she named him Mister. Once, while Stacey and I were in our bathroom, Zoe came in. And I said, “Zoe, did you feed your bunny?” And Zoe looked at my wife and said, “Why did you marry him? I can’t listen to his voice anymore.”

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