Boron Elgar
hotmail.com> wrote in
news:ln7724dsq8maem791djd1lq05skqts8r78@4ax.com:
> On 9 May 2008 00:41:56 GMT, Dover Beach
gmail.com>
> wrote:
> >>My stepson and his girlfriend are coming for a long weekend. Last
>>time they were here my husband woke me up at 2:00 AM to yell at me
>>because I was insufficiently June Cleaver-ish. So I'm all smiles and
>>brownies and simmering rage. Wish me luck!
>
>
> Um... exactly what were your "duties" supposed to be?
>
Well, it's not entirely clear. If it were clear, that would be fair,
wouldn't it? Well, more fair. I guess I'm not supposed to slob around
in pajama bottoms and tee shirts, and I'm not supposed to drink In Front
Of The Children, and I'm supposed to have dinner (a balanced dinner,
mind, with a protein, a starch, two vegetables, and bread) on the table
at 6:00 (not that I'm home before 5:45, and not that Ward is home before
8:00) and I'm supposed to smile and chat even though the girlfriend
(hereinafter referred to as That Skinny Bitch, or TSB, you've seriously
never seen a girl this thin; but that's not the problem, the problem is
SHE DOESN'T TALK, even in response to DIRECT QUESTIONS) and I don't
fucking[1] know what-all. I guess the house is supposed to be cleaner
than it is, but guess what, Ward lives here too. He could clean up. Am
I a housewife? No, Socrates, I fucking[1] am not. I work full-time.
Don't like the mess? Clean it the fuck[1] up.
Oh, I just got told that I'm supposed to hide all my exercise clothes
that I typically leave in a pile in the corner of the living room. How
much rent are these kids paying? None? And we're paying their air
fare? Maybe my exercise clothes can remain in a pile in the corner. No,
fine, I'll shove them in the hall closet. We don't want the family of
TSB talking about us. Oh, wait, what if I don't care if her stupid
judgmental mid-Western family gossips about my not being a good
housekeeper? To bad for me, I guess.
I cleaned up the kitchen, but apparently not enough; I cleaned up the
guest room -- I got the comforter cover de-cat-haired, yay! I win that
round. If Ward wanted this all spiffy he could've skipped the trip to
Folsom[2] and fucking[1] stayed home and dealt with it himself, eh?
I've been in a goddam[1] rage about this since last Fall when she was
here last. Ward had better not give me a hard time this time or he's
going to lose a nut.
[1] I'm also not supposed to swear.
[2] Apparently if I ask if him one more time if his client shot a man in
Reno just to watch him die, I'm going to lose important body parts also.
--
Dover
