In my mind, I am an open book. My kids say that a lot...they know what pisses off The Mama, before they do it. Mess up? You have it coming because you KNEW she was gonna pitch a fit. That's what Mama's do.
The Big Boy and I have been married/cohabitating for...I have to think...I met him when I was 29. (Math is not my strong point.) He spent my 30th birthday with the girl he had been engaged to for four years while she waited on him to get out of grad school. I...spent it with someone younger because it was HIS choice. And this kid was really cool. Times were different back then.
Anyway...we've been riding this train for 24 years. In one form or another. And it would SEEM TO ME that...if I were married to me? I'd quit pushing those buttons. They're very well labeled. In red. Every time.
Posted on the wall in our den is a hand-written sign...when the phone beside my bed is missing, The Nice Kid loses her cell phone for a week. One. Week. This would be because our parents are approaching elderly and I have a 28-year-old daughter out galivanting in the world and should someone call me in the middle of the night? I need to be able to HEAR the phone ring and PICK UP the phone. I'm just sayin'. And since The Nice Kid has never hung up a phone or put a lid on a container in her LIFE...we know it's her (the correct usage is "she" but how dumb does THAT sound?) who is responsible when the phones are missing. That's the way this stuff works in this Institution...there are mornings I get up and not ONE of the four phones in this house is sitting on its base. Not one. That be pissing OFF a mobile phone battery.
So...today is Monday. Friday night I...ended up on the couch at my brother's house after an elementary school birthday party (gotta love those Catholics!) and a dance and Science Olympiad and...something else I can't remember. And one glass of wine and two beers and cold medicine. It was late, I was tired and sick and we spent the night. It happens. And when I called home to tell The Big Boy where we were, he didn't answer. So I left a message. This is how this works.
Except he didn't get the message because he doesn't do answering machines so at four o'clock when he woke up and realized, and I quote, "I didn't have a wife! I didn't have any kids!", he called my cell phone and WOKE ME UP. One of us was pissed. It would be hard to decide which one it was because we both thought this was easy. He didn't know where I was (it took you until FOUR O'CLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING to decide this was an issue?) and I had LEFT HIM A MESSAGE.
How simple is this?
Anyway...last night when I took The Nice Kid's cell phone away from her for not hanging up the phone by my bed...because The Big Boy TOLD me she lost it...it turned out that, oh. Ooops. HE had knocked it off the nightstand and it was behind the bed. And when this shit hit the fan it flew all OVER me.
How simple is this?
So I went to the home store and spent $160 and then I went to the other home store and spent $260 and then I went to our Mexican place and had a margarita and a lovely grilled chicken combo and then I went to Dollar General and bought a sudoku book and then....
...I warn't mad no more. So I came home.
I'm just saying.
The Big Boy and I have been married/cohabitating for...I have to think...I met him when I was 29. (Math is not my strong point.) He spent my 30th birthday with the girl he had been engaged to for four years while she waited on him to get out of grad school. I...spent it with someone younger because it was HIS choice. And this kid was really cool. Times were different back then.
Anyway...we've been riding this train for 24 years. In one form or another. And it would SEEM TO ME that...if I were married to me? I'd quit pushing those buttons. They're very well labeled. In red. Every time.
Posted on the wall in our den is a hand-written sign...when the phone beside my bed is missing, The Nice Kid loses her cell phone for a week. One. Week. This would be because our parents are approaching elderly and I have a 28-year-old daughter out galivanting in the world and should someone call me in the middle of the night? I need to be able to HEAR the phone ring and PICK UP the phone. I'm just sayin'. And since The Nice Kid has never hung up a phone or put a lid on a container in her LIFE...we know it's her (the correct usage is "she" but how dumb does THAT sound?) who is responsible when the phones are missing. That's the way this stuff works in this Institution...there are mornings I get up and not ONE of the four phones in this house is sitting on its base. Not one. That be pissing OFF a mobile phone battery.
So...today is Monday. Friday night I...ended up on the couch at my brother's house after an elementary school birthday party (gotta love those Catholics!) and a dance and Science Olympiad and...something else I can't remember. And one glass of wine and two beers and cold medicine. It was late, I was tired and sick and we spent the night. It happens. And when I called home to tell The Big Boy where we were, he didn't answer. So I left a message. This is how this works.
Except he didn't get the message because he doesn't do answering machines so at four o'clock when he woke up and realized, and I quote, "I didn't have a wife! I didn't have any kids!", he called my cell phone and WOKE ME UP. One of us was pissed. It would be hard to decide which one it was because we both thought this was easy. He didn't know where I was (it took you until FOUR O'CLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING to decide this was an issue?) and I had LEFT HIM A MESSAGE.
How simple is this?
Anyway...last night when I took The Nice Kid's cell phone away from her for not hanging up the phone by my bed...because The Big Boy TOLD me she lost it...it turned out that, oh. Ooops. HE had knocked it off the nightstand and it was behind the bed. And when this shit hit the fan it flew all OVER me.
How simple is this?
So I went to the home store and spent $160 and then I went to the other home store and spent $260 and then I went to our Mexican place and had a margarita and a lovely grilled chicken combo and then I went to Dollar General and bought a sudoku book and then....
...I warn't mad no more. So I came home.
I'm just saying.
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