When It Rains...
The good thing about yesterday?
It finally ended.
I fed my need with a 3-piece spicy chicken dinner from Popeyes (LOVE THAT CHICKEN!), complete with mashed potatoes and gravy. Mmmm, gravy. I don't know or care where Popeyes' gravy comes from--bag, box, powder, outer space--that is some good shit, and I love it. Hell, I may even have some more for lunch today. Friday is payday and I've got about $10 left and I intend to spend it on food, glorious food.
After I picked the bones clean, Ben left for work, and I took my place on the couch with cats and dog and CSI reruns. At 7:30 I reluctantly peeled myself from the sofa and prepared to drive to BFE to fetch Bob from db (yesterday was the stupid fucker's birthday, and according to the new judgment, he's entitled to have Bob with him when he celebrates having lived to irritate the shit out of me another year). Got in my car, realized I didn't have my cell phone, as I'd been unable to locate it yesterday morning--decided it wasn't necessary, put the key in the ignition, and--
--nothing.
Not a goddamn thing.
Why, I ask, do the spirits choose the time when you are pregnant, exhausted, pissed off, home alone, without your phone, and due to fetch your child from his asshole father in 25 minutes--why THAT time to kill your car battery that has served you faithfully since January 2005?
After screaming some choice words, I found my phone (Bob put it in an old purse I don't carry), called Ben, had him come fetch me, and we drove to BFE together to fetch Bob. Bob got in the car and decided to start hating on mommy--and guess what--Mommy wasn't having it. I basically told him if he had a problem with me to spit it out, but otherwise to shut his mouth unless he had something polite and respectful to say. And he didn't say another word to me (although he chatted with Ben) until Ben dropped us off at home and we approached the front door.
"I love you, Mommy."
New definition of "conundrum:" wanting to simultaneously hug and drop kick a child.
The good news is that Ben managed to get up this morning, run the dog, drive to the parts store, buy a battery, and have it in my car before I was even ready to leave for work.
I take back everything I've ever said about him not being handy.
It finally ended.
I fed my need with a 3-piece spicy chicken dinner from Popeyes (LOVE THAT CHICKEN!), complete with mashed potatoes and gravy. Mmmm, gravy. I don't know or care where Popeyes' gravy comes from--bag, box, powder, outer space--that is some good shit, and I love it. Hell, I may even have some more for lunch today. Friday is payday and I've got about $10 left and I intend to spend it on food, glorious food.
After I picked the bones clean, Ben left for work, and I took my place on the couch with cats and dog and CSI reruns. At 7:30 I reluctantly peeled myself from the sofa and prepared to drive to BFE to fetch Bob from db (yesterday was the stupid fucker's birthday, and according to the new judgment, he's entitled to have Bob with him when he celebrates having lived to irritate the shit out of me another year). Got in my car, realized I didn't have my cell phone, as I'd been unable to locate it yesterday morning--decided it wasn't necessary, put the key in the ignition, and--
--nothing.
Not a goddamn thing.
Why, I ask, do the spirits choose the time when you are pregnant, exhausted, pissed off, home alone, without your phone, and due to fetch your child from his asshole father in 25 minutes--why THAT time to kill your car battery that has served you faithfully since January 2005?
After screaming some choice words, I found my phone (Bob put it in an old purse I don't carry), called Ben, had him come fetch me, and we drove to BFE together to fetch Bob. Bob got in the car and decided to start hating on mommy--and guess what--Mommy wasn't having it. I basically told him if he had a problem with me to spit it out, but otherwise to shut his mouth unless he had something polite and respectful to say. And he didn't say another word to me (although he chatted with Ben) until Ben dropped us off at home and we approached the front door.
"I love you, Mommy."
New definition of "conundrum:" wanting to simultaneously hug and drop kick a child.
The good news is that Ben managed to get up this morning, run the dog, drive to the parts store, buy a battery, and have it in my car before I was even ready to leave for work.
I take back everything I've ever said about him not being handy.
posted by Mitzi Green at 8:51 AM
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