Yesterday I came home from work and nothing had been done. There were more dirty dishes in the sink then there had been when I'd left that morning and nobody had even bothered to pick up the empty cat food bowls.
At least the laundry basket was empty, so my son folded and put away his clothes...
But my husband proudly announced from his spot in the living room, "I haven't done anything today." Little did I know that at that point he'd only been awake for about 5 hours.
I put my things away and then sat on my bedroom floor with my phone and a joint in an attempt to relax after a long day.
There was nowhere comfortable I could sit because of where the boys were... one enthroned in the living room and the other taking over the front room completely with his dancing around and playing Paper Mario.
This twelve year old can not keep still. Ever.
So despite the fact that my back was hurting more than normal I found some peace on the bedroom floor before getting up and cleaning the kitchen so I could cook dinner. So I could eat dinner and put the leftovers away (I only got help there because I told the boy to put the fucking ham away) and at least they brought me an ice cream cone (it was a pastry, not a cone, and it was absolutely fucking delicious but half the ice cream was the fudge and peanut butter that was supposed to be mixed throughout so that was an interesting experience) and then I passed out on the couch until a quarter after one in the morning.
I woke up to a filthy house.
My in-laws (who I loathe with an intensity that burns my very soul) are coming over to "have dinner in Japantown" and I can't help but wonder... isn't Sunday the day that the restaurant my mother-in-law just adores and has been going to "since 19fiftysomething" that "hasn't changed a bit!" is closed?
I also have to wonder what time they're coming over and how much I will have to deal with them.
I have to work tomorrow, the laundry basket is overflowing, the kitchen sink is filled with filth, the garbage cans all need to be emptied and the bins taken out, I need to get the grocery list put together, start the boy packing for summer camp, take care of the cat boxes, bring the bins to the curb and drive out to work to do rounds.
I do not want to even hear their fucking voices or see them in passing.
It's my last day "off" until the day the boy goes to camp and I'd like to enjoy it with him and not have to deal with that woman.
Oh such is life.
But seriously.
The man was so proud of doing nothing that I almost punched him.
