Grrrrrr….

Ohhhhh Kay….

… no, this isn’t my stepson. He weighs a lot more then Weed does

Weed gets out of jail Friday night. He comes over to my house Saturday morning.. stays all day. Comes back Sunday morning.. stays all day. He was a no-show on Monday and Tuesday and then yesterday and today his skinny, scabby ass was sitting on my couch not doing nothing.

Just sitting. Watching tv .. going on Facebook.. playing video games.. eating my food and using my facilities.

That first Saturday he was there, I told Chief that if Weed was planning on perching in my nest then he was going to have to put him to work doing SOMETHING. Since the baby was born, we’ve been spending a lot of time at the hospital so things around the house have been falling by the wayside a bit. The garden needs weeding.. the back porch needs cleaning.. the grass needs to be mowed. You get the idea.

Chief was completely on board with it.

… and then I mentioned it again on Sunday. And Wednesday. And before I left for work THIS MORNING.

Make him do something, Chief.. I don’t want his bony ass sitting doing nothing because he could be siting doing nothing in jail. He gets all oh-hell-yea and if he were Italian, he’d put in a fist pump for emphasis.

Right before this little convo, the baby’s Child Youth Service’s case worker called. We had to notify her that Weed was released from prison and she was calling to make sure that Weed was still on board for us to get custody of the baby. Since Weed has the Crack Whore’s phone, Chief gave her the number but told her it was 8:30am and she may not be able to reach him.

Now color me silly but to ME? .. this was kind of important, right? Like.. it’s the kind of information that you want to keep the person who’s life and finances are being altered because of this baby informed of. Right?

So after I have the convo with Chief on the front porch about making Weed do something, I drive to work and start my day.

By 3pm, I hadn’t heard anything from Chief so I give him a call and he’s all groggy because, once again, I interrupted a nap. I do feel bad about that because for one reason or another he doesn’t sleep much. Or at all, for that matter. But that’s neither here nor there.

Anyway.. so I call him and he’s asks me how my day is going and I tell him it’s going and then I ask him if anything was going on at the house.

He says something like if there was anything to tell he would have called me and I’m like.. are you kidding me?.. did the case worker get in touch with Weed? Have you heard from Weed? Did you hear from your dad? Like.. W! T! F! .. I don’t call to just shoot the shit.

He says he hasn’t heard from my father in law.. that the case worker did get in touch with Weed and he told her that he wanted us to have custody and that Weed was sitting there ON. THE. COUCH.

Oh? Well.. what was he doing?

Why, playing video games of course.

He goes on to say how pissed off he was and how he was going to tell him whatever he said he was going to tell him.

Whatever.

I was kind of put out that it was 3 in the afternoon and this whole conversation hadn’t happened yet and after hearing that you would think that he would know better then to ask me if I was going to stop at the super market on the way home to pick up dinner. Bad move. He caught on to my attitude pretty quick and apologized if he was frustrating me.

Too late, bucky.

So basically my afternoon was ruined and I got that pit in my stomach knowing that this kid was lumped on my couch doing nothing and I’m not even coming home to dinner. I don’t ask for much.. but after busting my ass all day, I like coming home and eating dinner. Call me silly.

So I got all this something or other churning around in my brain and when I get home, I am NOT in a good mood. Especially because I have to go home and then go food shopping.

I walk into the house and don’t say anything to anybody. Chief knows that I’m pissed so when I go into the bedroom to change out of my work clothes, he comes in.. closes the door.. and tells me that after he got off the phone with me he told Weed that he couldn’t hang at the house.. that he should be looking for a job.. blah blah blah fucking blah.

Whatever.

We leave to go food shopping and that takes forever. When we get home, Chief tells me that he’s going to get Spaz to help with the bags and that mentions something about IF Weed is still there he better get his ass out to help to.

Excuse me.. but where exactly WOULD he be?

Sure enough, he was there .. which meant he was going to be fed.. which really pissed me off more.

But let’s be honest.. there was NOTHING that WASN’T going to piss me off at that point.

So as we’re eating dinner, I passively aggressively ask Weed what the hell he thought his plan of life was going to be. I basically told him everything I felt Chief should have told him and added in that if he thought I was a bitch because of it then he better realize that he’s just getting poked by the tip of the iceberg.

I told him I didn’t want to here, “I’m trying”, or “it’s hard”, or “I can’t” or whatever because the only thing that would be acceptable is I START WORK TOMORROW. I told him it was pretty presumptuous of him to think that he can come up in here and act like he’s entitled to my castle like a prince with a crooked halo when I am literally flipping my whole life for 18+ years and changing every single plan I had made and taking care of his kid.

His first retort was that I didn’t have to.. that nobody is making me.. and I think when I shot up out of my chair he kind of realized he said the wrong thing because he backtracked real quick and said that he knew we didn’t have to and how lucky he was that we were. Then he kind of had a little meltdown and said through sobs and tears that we were worried more about the baby and not about him.

Not phased. At all.

I told him that HIS son was 23 DAYS old.. and HE was 23 YEARS old… get my point?

He had the good sense to shut the fuck up AND the good sense to not ask for a ride back to where he came from. When he did leave, he walked out the door the same way he walked in. No chariot waited.

Now let me just say this.. unless you walked in these Iron Fist clad feet, you have no understanding of the emotion and heartbreak and feelings of failure when your kid is a junkie. And while you can say you would do things differently.. and would have different results I’m here to tell you that those thoughts are bullshit.

I’ve watched enough “Intervention” to know that anything less then tough love is enabling. No one wants to see him get his life together more then we do. But understand, he’s not a kid. He’s an adult and if he can’t get his shit together now.. that what makes anyone think he’s going to get his shit together when he’s 25? 30? 50?

Who am I kidding.. he won’t make it to 50.

 

2011’s W.T.F!!

Ok.

Bathroom visit? Check. Coffee refill? Double Check? Ready for this? NOT in the least.

And of course.. anything in my life that’s W.T.F. involves Weed.

Weed is now 22. Don’t know how much I caught you up on his antics but let’s just say he hasn’t changed. At all.

Back in July he caused a ruckus in front of MY family that got him kicked out of the house for good. He HAD been kicked out but for some reason had thought it was okay to stumble into the house at 2am and sleep off whatever had him wrecked in the first place.

He would either stay at the Crack Whore’s or the Crack House (both are the same in my opinion) and then in September he got arrested for shoplifting a lipstick for his skank ho girlfriend.

Thank landed him in the pokey for a month because no one who had 200.00 bucks would put it up for his bail.

He got out in October and did come over to the new house for a “family” (cough cough) dinner.

I didn’t want him here.. didn’t want Bubba here either.. but I’m not going to be the one blamed for Chief not seeing his sons. So dinner there was.. and dinner they ate.. and back to the Crack Whore’s house they went. The whole thing lasted about 3 hours.

Thank GOD for small favors.

At any rate..

A week before Thanksgiving Chief gets a phone call from Weed who tells him that he and his skank ho girlfriend have a “problem”.

Heh.. we all know what that “problem” is, don’t we?

Come on!!

Guess!!

Turns out the the skank ho girlfriend was ALSO in jail the same time Weed was. She got locked up the same time he did for the whole lipstick thing. OBVIOUSLY no one bailed her out either so OBVIOUSLY she’s not a good girl dabbling on the dark side. Turns out SHE is just as bad as HE is when it comes to popping pills, sticking needles in her arm and spending time in the pokey.

And now these two junkie low lives are breeding.

Nice.

Real Nice.

NOT being the biological parent.. and with my feet firmly planted in reality.. I IMMEDIATELY start thinking about the phone calls about the baby needing diapers.. needing formula.. needing a ride to the doctors.. etc. etc. etc. .. and I started getting pissed.

Chief.. who rides unicorns in clouds of cotton candy and farts glitter.. wasn’t down with the situation but a piece of him, I think, was a little gaga over the fact that there was going to be a baby around.

I say that because HE wasn’t understanding MY concerns. And they are concerns because even though I believe every baby is a blessing regardless of it’s misfortune of being conceived by junkies.. I know that I am the only one supporting this household right now. Chief hasn’t worked since forever and I’ve been working my ass off to not only get out of a financial hole but to get our lives back to normal.

And I am not about to backslide because the toxic twins decided to steal a lipstick instead of a condom.

Also, considering everything this kid put me through the last two years.. all the disrespect, name calling, theft of things I could never replace.. the anguish.. the attitude.. you name it.. you really think I’m all down for supporting something HE created?

I know that sounds mean.. I know that it isn’t the baby’s fault.. but I also know me and I also know how far back I’ve leaned .. how much I’ve let slide.. and as of RIGHT FRIGGIN’ NOW.. I’m bitter and resentful that Chief doesn’t have my back on this one.

End. Rant.

So fast forward to the beginning of December. Since no one is talking about anything that matters, I decide I’m going to stalk Facebook and see if I can find anything out.

We’re not “friends” .. but I am friends with someone he is friends with so I jump over to Weed’s wall. Nothing of interest. Oh, that’s right.. the Crack Whore didn’t pay the cable bill so the internet was cut. But then I see who he’s in a relationship with and let’s just say there’s a reason why I call her a skank ho.

This was early on a Thursday morning.. something like 3am. Her last post was something that I took as abortion guilt. Something about how murders deserve to be in jail and apologies for not allowing he/she to live long enough to decide whether it lived or died.

Listen, she’s a junkie. Do you really expect her to make sense?

When Chief gets up I tell him that I don’t think there’s a baby any more.

He… HE!!!.. tells me that the skank ho girlfriend od’d over the past weekend and that they took Weed in for questioning.

Um.

Wait.

EXCUSE ME?

You knew for FOUR days and you didn’t tell me WHY??

He said he found out from Spaz the previous Sunday when he picked him up from the Crack Whore’s and that he was soooo livid that he wanted to find Weed and beat the crap out of him.. and then he just wanted to put it out of his mind because he was so enflamed.

Good job on THAT one, Bucky.

I was beyond pissed. Not the first time that he hasn’t told me things that I think he should since we’re married and in a relationship and I support him and his kid’s simple asses.

But whatever.

At this point, I don’t know whether she’s dead or alive.. don’t know if Weeds’ in jail or not.. don’t know if she lost the baby because she od’d or od’d because she aborted the baby.

I let it go because they’re ALL pissing me off.

Fast forward two weeks and we have Chief’s twin brother Sarge and his wife over for dinner. I hear the three of them talking in the kitchen about Weed and I hear Chief say that Weed needs to live in a box for a while so he can get his shit together and be a productive member of society.

I stay firmly parked next to my fireplace. Let them talk. They’re all very good at talking ABOUT someone’s situation instead of talking TO someone about their situation. IF they talk at all, that is. Communication is NOT key with Chief or in his side of the family.

About an hour or so goes by and Sarge’s wife enters my personal space near the fireplace and asks me when the skank ho girlfriend is due. I tell her I didn’t think she still was and went into what I just went into above. She asked me what I was going to do about it.. and I looked at her like she ate too many candy canes off my Christmas tree.

I am doing NOTHING about it.. and went into the same thing I went into above.

She rambled something about getting stuff off Craigslist and if they want to be the knights in shining armor then more power to them. That’s how they roll.. come into a situation waving wads of cash.. offering this .. offering that.. all so they can say that THEY did something and Chief did not.

People: Now your significant other’s family before they become your significant other. Word.

So at this point.. two weeks before the Christmas dinner that his sons and the skank ho are attending, I have no clue whether or not there’s a baby.

I found out on Christmas.

When the Toxic Twins came over so freakin’ wrecked out of their minds.. and I’ve never felt so uncomfortable or so disrespected in my own home.

She’s running around the house .. jumping on my furniture.. saying how her baby is now exactly 11 weeks old and her name is whatever she said it’s name was going to be.

Weed couldn’t even verbalize:

ME: Where you working?
WEED: jdkagerj;f v irtdsf uaejrksdl  TRANSLATION: no.. but I’m trying
ME: So… you’re not working?
WEED: yifk gtreja gh;yi rfck vjitm vj TRANSLATION: i’m putting applications in
ME: So.. your not working.. have no money.. no place to live.. a baby on the way.. so how exactly were you able to get wrecked?

OR THIS CONVERSATION

WEED: sfgktkdf jto ih twy jtrfsd gab jdfkl hyt  TRANSLATION: when is your landlord going to clean out that spare room?
ME: None of your business because you’re not moving in here. Need me to say it slower?

OR THIS ONE AFTER HE SCRAPPED HIS PLATE IN TO THE DOGS’ WATER BOWL

WEED: siugjarf agt adiotrjfdkalfj adty   TRANSLATION: haha.. i’m as blind as  a bat
ME: No, you’re as high as a fucking kite.

Now, let me just add here that sometimes I have to be careful about my feelings. I don’t like these two so they could save a bag of puppies from drowning and I’d find fault with it. But since my  mother and Chief’s father were both a witness to this.. and saw the same things I saw and felt the same way I felt, I was justified in telling Chief after everyone was at their own houses that I did not want them back in my house anymore. Wasn’t happening. Wasn’t going to be disrespected or feel uncomfortable in the house that I’M paying for.

He got me. And to his credit, he had the good sense to be just as upset and pissed off as I was. For the moment anyway. Chief lets things go. I don’t. I’m Italian.

And then the straw that broke my camel’s back happened Wednesday.

Again, via Facebook, I found out that the Toxic Twins are planning to get married.

WEED: udf gafjdkgh rito afdjkg ja    TRANSLATION: it’s the honorable thing to do
SKANK HO:  fafidg  grh jthr gankdl khji tuera hd     TRANLSATION: i love my boos.

Chief had surprised me by coming up to work with lunch that day. As I sat in the car I asked him if he is ever in communication with his son OR his ex regarding the baby. He makes a face.. shakes his head and says ‘nope’.

So again.. I tell him what I saw on Facebook and he non-chalantly says “oh, yea.. Weed told me he proposed on Christmas day and I just blew it off”.

Nice. REAL Nice.

Once again.. I felt like I was kept out of the loop. Once again, I felt like we’re supposedly in a relationship where we’re suppose to be best friends and we’re suppose to support each other.. be shoulder to shoulder .. right?

OBVIOUSLY, I’m the only one who thought that.

Because APPARENTLY it’s a relationship where what’s mine is his and that’s just about fucking it.

So now here’s the thing.

If there’s one thing I know for sure is that I know how I am. It takes me a loooong time to turn my back but once it’s turned it stays that way. Once may feelings change.. they’re changed. Once I change my opinion of someone.. it’s changed.

And all the above happened.

So now I patiently wait until midnight where we tell each other our new year’s resolutions.. and I tell him that I don’t want to know about anything about anyone that doesn’t live under my roof.. don’t ask me for anything.. don’t tell me about anything.. don’t feed them food that I bought.. don’t invite them into a home that I pay for.. I don’t want to know or be a part of baby showers or wedding receptions or baptisms or births.

Done.. Over.. I’m Out..

 

Wisdom

One of my father’s favorite sayings was:

HOW MANY TIMES DOES A DOG HAVE TO BITE YOU BEFORE YOU STOP TRYING TO PET IT

I learn lessons the hard way.

I haven’t been posting because there’s been a lot of turmoil.. and drama.. and W! T! F!s .. and it was bad enough living it let alone blogging about it. I had to come to terms with a few things.. whether I would accept them.. or distance myself from them or have-n0-clue-which-turn-to-take because of them.

Make no mistake.. I am a fighter. But I also know not to waste strength on a losing battle. I don’t see it so much as giving up.. rather, putting my best efforts to where they are 1) wanted and 2) most beneficial to me.

I’ve wasted too much time.. too much effort.. suffered through too much heart ache to continue being miserable.

I’m generally NOT  a miserable person.. I generally make the best of thing and GENERALLY let crap go where it belongs but enough is enough.

I have some heavy decisions to make about my future.. I have decided on the important things, it’s just the logistics I have to figure out.

To those who have been following, I’m going to use this post to put the puzzle pieces together for you and fill you in on what’s been going on but I don’t think I’m going to continue doing that. For those that know my email address and want to be kept updated on the saga, feel free to write me..

So..

You all know that I put the computer on lock-down because Bubba refused to do what he was suppose to do regarding the whole cyber-school thing.

Aside from the reports that the cyber school generates.. I’ve been keeping my own log on Excel. God bless the day I fell in love with Excel!

I know exactly how much time Bubba has spent on school work .. which assignments are over due.. the length of time he’s spend on each assignment down to the second .. everything. At a glance. He might THINK he’s smart because he can get over on his parent’s, but with me? No. I just have my hands tied as to what to do about it.

Anyway..

So last Friday, I had to drive Chief up to his job to fill out some paper work or something. We left at around noon. Bubba was still sleeping because even though the computer shuts off at 11pm, he was still staying up to the early morning hours watching tv and playing video games.

We get a text message from him around 1:30pm asking for the password to the computer. I was driving and couldn’t text him back so I told Chief to tell him that he needs to do his school work first.

Now, the day before I told him that he didn’t have to do his mandatory four hours if he completed all the master tests that needed to be done. He jumped at the chance because THIS IDIOT didn’t know how many tests he actually had to complete.. and to complete them all would take WAY more then four hours.

So about 2 or 2.5 hours go by and he texts again for the password. Chief was going to give it to him but I was like Uh-Uh. No.. ask him how many tests he completed first. The response came back that he did 3.. which, you know, if I BELIEVED him would have sounded about right. I half expected him to say all of them.

I still told Chief not to give him the password.. that he needed to wait until we got home to verify his work. Chief texted him back and when Bubba didn’t text back, I thought that was weird. No begging? No pleading? Nope. Because the fucking idiot GAVE him the password.. not only did he give him the password, he also have him the ADMINISTRATOR’s password.

Honestly, if we didn’t have our seat belts on and I wasn’t on the highway, I would have beat Chief silly with a tire iron.

We finally got home a few hours later and Bubba was gone.

Of course he was. He knew what was coming.

I checked the cyber school logs and not only did he NOT do the tests.. he didn’t do ANYTHING.

Shoving the laptop screen into Chief’s face, I asked him how it felt to be lied to.. how did it feel to have a 16 year old sucker you.. repeatedly? Just how DID it feel knowing that your 16 year old son thought you were a pussy and treated you like his bitch?

I’ll tell you .. he didn’t like it at all when it was said out loud.

He went on ranting and raving about what he was going to do.. (right) What he was going to say to him (don’t hold your breath).. And how things were going to be (suuuure they are) ..

I told him that he was all big and bad venting to me but as soon as Bubba walked in the door, he was going to be a cream puff.

I actually didn’t think Bubba was going to come home that night… but he did.. well after Chief was asleep and he knew better then to try and get on the computer because HE knows ME .. and he knows that I was going to do everything short of sinking the damn think in concrete and since I was the only one up, he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask me for a goddamn password.

So Saturday morning comes.. rather, it was Saturday afternoon before Bubba rolled his lump of flesh out of bed. And as expected, Chief did say something to him about being lied to.. but, as expected, followed it by asking if he wanted him to make him something for breakfast.

That’s his MO .. act like a parent then feel guilty afterwards.

Bubba complained that it was Saturday.. Chief said that he didn’t care.. Bubba said that HE did.. (I would have popped that son of a bitch in the  mouth right then.. but that’s me) .. Chief pulled out the list of all the tests he had to complete.. Bubba complained that there was 8 hours worth of work.. Chief said to only do 4 hours.

Both of them needed to be popped in the mouth then, by my estimates.

I was in the bedroom working on a project. Chief comes in and starts watching a movie. I tell him that he needs to be out there staring over Bubba’s shoulder. Chief is confident that Bubba will do the work.

SSSS.  UUUU.  CCCC.  KKK. EEE.  RRR

Not a half hour goes by and I smell the nasty ass cologne that the Crack Whore gave Bubba for Christmas. I thought I heard the front door but the dogs hadn’t stirred so I wasn’t sure.  I get up to look and sure enough, Bubba high tailed it out of the house. Mind you, this is a BIG kid.. we have hard wood floor  that vibrate whenever he moves around so I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did his best to sneak out. May have even used the back door because it’s furthest from where we were and would explain why the dogs didn’t bark when the front door was opened.

I went back in the bedroom and casually asked Chief if he knew Bubba had skipped.

“I do now.” he answered, and then went back to watching his movie.

Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously. Are you FUCKING kidding me?

He got all cocky with me and said, “.. what am I suppose to do? Call the cops?”

No.. you simple assed idot.. YOU CALL HIS CELL PHONE AND TELL HIM TO GET HIS ASS HOME RIGHT NOW

Nope. I was told he wouldn’t answer his cell phone anyway and why get more aggravated?

Well.. simple ass.. because YOU aren’t even aggravated! I AM! You see what’s wrong with this picture?

Bubba didn’t come home Saturday night. He texted my cell at 11pm and said “.. sleeping out”.

My response?

You can run away from your responsibilities but that doesn’t make them go away. Leaving only made things worse.

No return text.

Sunday night he texted again saying that he was sleeping out. The school’s had off on Monday so I didn’t count on him coming home Sunday.

He did come home on Monday. At 10:30pm.

Chief was already asleep and I had absolutely NOTHING to say to him. I thought about it long and hard over that weekend and realized that this isn’t anything CLOSE to being a family. I know other step parents are able to discipline their spouses’ kids.. step up to the plate and be a parent.. but those have supportive spouses. I don’t.. and if Bubba’s father isn’t going to be a father.. then I refuse to be the one who lays down the hammer all the time.. when I did, I only had it thrown back in my face.

But there’s more.. because there’s always more.

Tuesday rolls around and it’s another late afternoon rise for Bubba. I had gone out for most of the afternoon and while I wasn’t planning on returning to far into the night, circumstances dictated that I returned to the house around 4 or 5. I passed Bubba on the computer to get to my bedroom and while I was getting changed, he knocked on the door and told his father that the Crack Whore was picking him up so that she can help him study for his driver’s test.

Chief responded, “.. if THAT’s what your going to do”

Bubba says it is and leaves.

He hasn’t been back to the house since.

Around 11:00 that night, I said to Chief, “.. guess Bubba isn’t coming home” and he got all defensive saying, “.. he’s at HIS MOTHER’S.” .. like that’s any better then staying at his friend’s? Because she has a computer and you know he’s going to be up all night being the Top Cop of Pretend Town .. exactly what he wasn’t allowed to do here.

Wednesday morning I went out and when I returned home, the Crack Whore had sent a text saying that she had had a long talk with Bubba and that he wasn’t going to go out driving unless he does his work and to have his social security card and birth certificate for when he goes for his permit.

Chief then tells me that he sent her a message via Yahoo and told her about Bubba and his school. Whatever.  I’m the one who knows where they’re at and guess what? You’re going to see just how spiteful a bitch I can be. Because like I said before, bigger and better have tried to roll me.. I’m not about to let a 16 year old do it.

Thursday comes and goes with Bubba doing about an hour’s worth of work.

Friday comes and goes with Bubba doing no work at all.

Saturday .. Sunday.. nothing.

Today? 8 minutes.

The Crack Whore sends a text message. I didn’t look at it, just handed the phone to Chief and told him the message was for him. She must have asked him to call her because he dialed and asked “what’s up” when she answered.

She said that Bubba wanted to go back to regular school .. that he’s been asking to go back to regular school and Chief won’t send him (lie) .. Chief told her that he did inquire but that if he went back, he was going to fail the year because he’s too far behind .. he told her that he wasn’t trying to be a dick towards him… he’s just worried about his future (when exactly did we move to dilusion-ville?) .. he told her she had to be a bitch to him about his work because the only reason why he’s there is because he can’t do what he wants to do here.

She said fine and that she was going to swing by after she went where she had to go and pick up some of Bubba’s clothes.

This was at 8pm? It’s now 4am and the clothes are still on the dining room table because she never showed.

Considering the vast amount of chemicals she ingests, do you really think she’s going to get Bubba to do his work? Do you really believe that Bubba doesn’t know that she goes into a drug induced coma leaving him free to do what he wants to do?

Are you asking the same questions I am?

Don’t bother.. you’re wasting your time and I am the expert in wasting time asking logical questions of the illogical. The answer is that she will do whatever she can do to disrupt anything in the kid’s life. I’m also expecting custody papers in the mail because you KNOW she’s not going to have him living with her and NOT try to get some monetary gain .. especially since Chief is working now. The last time Bubba stayed there, she filed for custody the next day.. so you know, I’m not going to be surprised when they arrive.

As far as Chief goes? I really don’t know why he wanted custody to begin with ..

Me? Well, I finally stopped trying to pet the dog.

Even thought I know he doesn’t realize it, our relationship has changed. I don’t have the hopes.. the dreams of the future.. the silly giddiness I used to have when being around him. Anymore I just feel regret and contempt. I don’t look at him the say way .. I’ve lost respect for him as a man and a father..

It’s time for me to go..

 

Berry Dreams

This Is NOT The Berry Dream Cake

When Chief was running the East Coast’s favorite bakery/eatery for 13 years, he had the opportunity to learn A LOT of stuff from the German bakers that worked there.

He was trained in savory.. baking and pastry is a WHOLE other animal.

But he wanted to learn and he did.

He might suck as a man.. father.. and husband.. but he rocks in the kitchen.

Anyway..

At the start of our relationship, he was telling me about this cake he created that was expensive to make and hella labor intensive but absolutely stunning visually and just as delicious.

He called it something then and I can’t remember it so I’ll just refer to it as a Berry Dream cake.

So the Berry Dream cake kind of became like the Holy Grail. It became like this “thing” between us.. whenever he would bake a cake, I’d ask “.. oh! Is that a Berry Dream?” .. or whenever we were at a bakery I’d say, “gee.. no Berry Dream,  huh?”

When he would ask me what I wanted for my birthday.. Christmas.. Anniversary … I’d say the Berry Dream cake.

It may not “read” funny .. but it is.. we laugh over it all the time.

Earlier today we had to go to the market. I wasn’t talking to him but didn’t want him going alone because we’re tight on money and I don’t trust him not to spend it. He’s suppose to get his income tax return in the next few days so I figured in HIS mind, it would be okay to spend whatever he wanted. In MY mind, I don’t spend anything unless it’s in my hand.

Good call.

As soon as we walked in and started walking through the produce section, he started to grab a container of blueberry.

What’s that for, I asked.

He looked at me like I caught him with his hand in the cookie jar at midnight.. “Um.. um.. well..”

ME: You’re not making the Berry Dream cake.
CHIEF: (like a little kid) It’s Valentine’s Day.. I wanted to surprise you.
ME: Surprise me? Because I’m not standing right next to you when you picked up blueberries that we have absolutely no other reason to buy.
CHIEF: Well, when was I suppose to buy them?
ME: Oh.. I don’t know.. because the market is not OPEN 24 HOURS and I don’t sleep bizarro hours??
CHIEF: True.
ME: Besides, there isn’t money in the budget to make it. End of story.

Now, given what had transpired earlier .. I know the reason for this cake isn’t because he wanted to surprise me for Valentine’s Day .. it’s because he was feeling the shade and I wasn’t going to get into there in the middle of the produce section of the supermarket.

I definitely wasn’t going to get into a little later on in the market when he said something about the Tide detergent I had hidden in my closet and just the THOUGHT of having Tide hidden in my closet made me smile.

I wish I could make you smile like that all the time.

Yea.. me too Bucky. Me too.

THIS Is Why Things Are The Way They Are..

The other night when Chief and I were walking the dogs, I happened to look up at Weed’s window on the second floor and saw some kind of sheet or curtain half hanging off .. it’s one of those two windows right next to the other kind of deals so whatever was hanging was hanging half of the left one  like it was just stuck on a nail.

If there’s ONE thing I CANNOT tolerate it’s Ghetto Window Treatments.

I mean, I’ve actually moved one time when the neighbor across the street was tying their curtains in a know instead of investing $1.50 in a freakin’ bracket set.

So when I saw that, I pointed at it and said to Chief, “.. WHAT the HELL is THAT!!” .. and not in a questioning kind of way .. if you know what I mean.

Chief understand far to well my obsession with Ghetto Window Treatments so he called up to Weed and told him to take it down. Weed does and I tell him that I have curtains for him to hang up there.

Mind you, this room was empty prior to Weed moving back in here and I had taken the curtains down to wash and iron when I had cleaned the room many many months before.

At any rate ..

We go into the house.. I get the curtains.. and I tell Chief that he’s coming upstairs with me. He’s reluctant .. and I know why. He know I  know why but if I had to carry him up there myself, I would have.

The room is a disaster .. and not just by MY standards .. clean clothes all over the place .. dirty clothes all over the place.. soda bottles.. dishes.. food wrappers.. cutlery .. glasses.. cups ..

Oh HELL TO THE NO!

I told Weed that THIS wasn’t going to be ROOM NUMBER THREE that he trashes in this house .. and the only reason why he was even here in the first place is because we THOUGHT we were moving and now that we’re NOT.. he’s always going to be thisclose to being thrown out on his simple, non-working ass.

Chief tells him to get a trash bag.. I tell him that there’s an empty closet with a universe full of hangers and two.. COUNT THEM.. two empty dressers for his clothes.

Get to it.. and get to it NOW.

I hang the curtains while he’s picking up the shit and then I go downstairs to do what I had planned to do .. dye my hair and take a shower.

When I was finished, I went into the bedroom and asked Chief if Weed had finished cleaning his room. He said he had. Taken out his trash? Yep. Brought down his dirty clothes? Yep.

Why.. oh.. why did I believe this man?

The following day, a Saturday, I take the dogs out for their morning walk and one of the trash cans had fallen over in front of the back steps.

An empty trash can.

Hmmmm…

I check the second trash can.

Empty.

Double Hmmmm…

Trash pick up was Friday morning .. Weed was suppose to have cleaned his room Friday night .. so.. um.. where exactly was his trash bag?

So after Chief gets up that morning, I ask him again. “Weed cleaned his room, right?” .. Uh-huh. “So.. um.. where did he put his trash?”.. Outside in the can? “Hmm.. because the trash cans are empty” .. Well, the trash came. “Yea.. right.. that whole thing with Weed? That was Friday night.. not Thursday night.”

He started to wimper .. I donnnn’t knnnowww… I saw him take a trash bag down ..

So at this point, I know he’s lying and I decide to wait until I can go upstairs while Weed and Chief are occupied.

Because I know what I’m going to find.

That came yesterday afternoon .. Chief had to drive Weed somewhere and while I was gone I went upstairs and sure enough all the clothes are piled where they were piled and the trash bag, half full, is sitting in the middle of the floor.

When Chief came home, without Weed, I told him about the room.

His response?

I told Weed to clean his room because you were going to go up there!! I told him that if he didn’t I was going to here it and I know all about how things trickle down!!

He was like.. what? Almost giddy that he was right? Like, he had gotten the right answer on Double Jeopardy after wagering his whole pot?

And I looked at him like he was the simple assed inept mother fucker that he is.

Because it shouldn’t have Leese is going to check.. or Leese wants you to do it.. or you better do it before Leese starts on ME about it ..

It should have been CLEAN YOUR FUCKING ROOM RIGHT NOW

I couldn’t even say anything to him.. I had to walk away and go OUT of my way not to be in the same room with him because there’s no telling what was going to come out of my mouth.

I had to mull things over .. had to digest the situation more then I’ve been.. and the bottom line is that it’s not 2 against 3 in this house.. it’s 1 against 4.

In this house.. and to everyone beside me that lives in this house, I am a joke.

And Weed’s room is still not clean …