Another weekend, another reign of terror from She Who Must Be Obeyed. Am I really that bad of a person? I don't think so . . . but then . . .
So, the usual pattern is employed. Pick her up at the train station because she's "sick." The quart of Foster's she was lugging along with the bags of household papers she carries with her everywhere, as I am a criminal waiting to seize her innermost secrets, apparently, maybe that fine brew had something to do with it. An hour of occasional snipes topped off with "take my goddamn name off the insurance" as a final throat-slash was the script of torture for this trip.
This morning - use the child to rouse me, get ready and wait, wait, wait. Good thing I loaded the garbage into the car in the freezing cold last night otherwise it wouldn't get done today, either. I've been ready for two hours. Then, the phone calls begin. Mind you, I'm fifty feet away. But you can't say "conversation over" and hang up after every call when you're face to face, can you, nor can you hide body language, right? So, the pawn, I mean, the child is used to pass messages, to which I say, "No, S, don't tell me. Your Mom will tell me a little later, okay?" She's not to be used in any way, especially that way.
If this was all a surprise, I'd be extremely upset already. But, I know the pattern. Here's the blasting music, another phone call and so forth. I'm sure as soon as I get downstairs, I'll see a trail of clothes that I'd neatly folded before on the floor. Oh, there's a text. What a surprise! The assault begins!!! In a nice tone : "S will be ready in a few minutes & I am ready now. R u?" Can't use that in court . . . but what it really means is "Unload the garbage because I have to stop at the post office, bank and then YOU'LL make S late."
Yeah, okay. Love is a many splendored thing. Blow me.
Oh, the horror . . .