Cutting Deep

.. so this afternoon when I got home from the shop guess what I found?

Yep… you guys pay sooo close attention!!

Bowls.. glasses.. forks.. spoons.. plates.. all in the sink.

Gobs of peanut butter and ice cream melted on the counter.. oh.. and pancake syryp.

Why pancake syryp is beyond me but there it was.

So I promptly went into my bedroom and what did I found there?

One of my desk drawers open.

If there is ONE THING that GOES BEYOND anything.. the dirty dishes.. the dirty clothes.. the piss on the bathroom floor.. it’s GOING INTO MY FUCKING BEDROOM.

There is ABSOLUTELY NO GOOD REASON for ANYBODY other then the people that SLEEP IN THAT ROOM to BE in that room.

Can you tell how pissed I am?

So I go out into the living room where the blubbering mass that is Spaz is stretched out on the couch?

WHY WERE YOU IN MY ROOM?

Huh?

WHY WERE YOU IN MY ROOM?

I wasn’t in your room

THEN WHO WAS????

I don’t know. Probably Bubba.

Fine. Bubba was STILL asleep at 3 in the afternoon and I wasn’t about to go in his bedroom and wake him up because 1) I didn’t want to see anything that was going to scar me for life and 2) He would only say that it wasn’t him and I would get more pissed off then I already was.

I figured I’d wait until their father got home and address it at the dinner table.

Bubba got up around 5… Spaz is still melding to the couch.. and NEITHER of them are doing their dishes.

So around 6:30, I go into the kitchen to start dinner and it’s either I leave everything and cook around the mess.. gross! Or I wash everything and add it to the list of things that have to addressed at the dinner table when their father gets home.

I go with the latter..

Big mistake.

As I’m washing in the sink, I put my hand in the to wash a glass and guess what?

The glass is broken and take a good size chuck out of the bottom of my pinky finger.

The blood just pooled out and I was literally afraid that I had sliced through whatever it is that makes your pinky finger work because sharp glass can do a lot of damage.. that’s how bad it looked.

Thankfully, it wasn’t anything more serious then a chunk of flesh.. but that wasn’t the point.

So I wrap the bloody rag around it and drive to the shop. I had to get out of the house before I literally sliced them all up and deep fried them for fondue… plus, I needed a band aid.

I get to the shop and when Chief sees me walking in at first he was all smiles but then he notices the rag and gets all worried. I tell him what happened.. and I told him why it happened.

I’m BEYOND whatever… he keeps apologizing.. for getting cut .. for his kids.. for everything.

I’m almost at the brink of tears because I’m so damn frustrated and I’m not getting the reaction that I would have given if the roles were reversed.

Maybe that’s my problem. Maybe.. just maybe my frustration level increases when he doesn’t do what I expect him to do. Or maybe all the blood loss is affecting my thought process.

Dunno.

Anyway..

So we just get home a few minutes ago and I heat up a cup of coffee for me. He says that he’ll take a cup of what was left in the pot because it really wasn’t that old and hadn’t been heating up for twenty hours.

I say fine.. he walks through the kitchen.. says hello to the boys and goes into the bedroom to get unchanged.

This doesn’t sit well with me. Are you at least going to say SOMETHING???

So my cup is heated and I put his in..

He comes into the kitchen and puts the ground beef in front of the microwave :: hamburgers for dinner, courtesy of HIM because.. yknow.. can’t do anything with a bloodied.. band-aided gaping hole in my hand :: so I tell him that his coffee is in the ‘wave and start to walk out of the kitchen.

“What’s the matter..” he asks.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? DID YOU LOSE YOUR MIND WHEN YOU LOST YOUR HAIR??

That’s what I WANT to say.. but I don’t.

I just say, “… you put the ground beef in front of the microwave and I was letting you know your coffee is in there.”

And then I walked out of the kitchen an towards by bedroom… halfway through the dining room, Spaz asks me what’s for dinner. I ignore him and keep walking. I think THAT’S what made Chief start yelling at them about the dishes being left in the sink.

I don’t know what he said.. but I heard him saying something like taking away the computer and the Playstation the next time it happens.

Blah.. blah.. blah.. blah.. blah….

Really…

Because.. um.. isn’t that what you ALWAYS say and never do??

A few minutes later he comes into the bedroom with a hamburger.. I ask him why we’re not eating with them in the dining room and he said he didn’t think I wanted to be near them. I tell him that I wanted to find out who was in our room. OH! he says.. By All Means.

So we go out there and we’re sitting around the table and I bust out with it.

No nicities.. no asking.. no hey by the ways… just I WANT TO KNOW WHO WAS IN MY ROOM.

Of course, both denied it. Bubba insisted he was asleep until before I went to work and until after I came home. Spaz denied everything. Bubba insisted that if he did go in our room, Spaz would rat him out until I very precisely told him how he would do it without Spaz even knowing about it.

And Spaz.. OMG!! He started acting like he was being persecuted.. so over it.

Then I asked him if he left the Crack Whore’s apartment looking like he leaves our house.

He said no and I asked him why. He put his head down on the table and I asked him again. I said I wanted to know.. answer me honestly. Is it because you don’t live there? Is it because you have more respect for her then you do for me and his father? Is it because she would come home screaming and hollaring?

He never did answer so I switched it up.

I asked him how he felt when he cleans his room and then Bubba comes in and messes it up.

He said he gets angry.

I asked him if he saw my point and he said I did.

But once again.. it was ME doing the talking.. taking the lead while Chief just sat there at a loss and so I went for it.

I told both his kids that it’s at a point where they’ve made me so angry.. so pissed off.. so frustrated that  I don’t even want to be around them let alone do anything for them.

Chief piped up and said that I wasn’t their maid and I corrected him..

“.. oh yes I am. I am their maid.. their cook.. their chauffeer :: or however you spell it.. you get the idea :: .. they come to me when they want clothes.. or a ride somewhere.. or whatever. THAT’S when they come to me.. other then that? Fuck me.. right guys?”

Chief looked hurt. He started to say that he doesn’t think of me that way but I cut him off. Don’t you? I asked. Really? Because if you didn’t then why does the house look like the house does when I’m not the one doing everything that I do?

I knew that he was going to bring up cleaning the house on Sunday but I cut him off.. because, yknow, I smarter then he is.

I said, “.. and don’t even bring up Sunday because when was the last time you did that? Six? Eight MONTHS ago?”

He had the good idea to not try to defend himself because he knew I was right and at one point, all three of them put their heads down.

Great.. I said.. between the 12 year old.. 16 year old and 43 year old.. I’d be better off with infants.

So I said my piece and Chief lightened things up like he always does by changing the subject and saying something funny about the cats or the dogs or the fish or whatever.

And then I just had to let it go.. because harboring stuff isn’t going to make things better only make me crazy and I think.. I THINK.. I just might be crazy enough!