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My Profile
Gift from Hil Part 2 - 2014-12-30
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12:47 a.m. - 2010-09-07
Oy, the universe mocks me. All I wanted was a nice quiet day to sit, sulk and snarl to myself. Bwahahahahahahahaha!!!! Okay, so I wake up this morning and Mick is already out in the driveway warming up and his riding partner is maneuvering his pick-up so the main drag of the driveway is clear. I clomped downstairs and called out a cheery enough hello to both of them and then sullenly started the coffee. I'd expected Mick to come back in and kiss me before he left, but he and Joe took off. Pedaling like mad things they hied away to the barrens and rode for over 2 hours. I got a twinkle from the ether they were on their way home so I washed and dressed (including on a goddamn bra) and forced my aggrieved puss into the fakest happy face you can imagine. Started some corn bread and chopped veggies for a frittata and greeted the weary bicyclists with an alligator smile, cold wash cloths, dry towels, and a cheery announcement that brunch would be served in 15 minutes. Fortunately they'd had a great ride and Joe is a terrific guy. I served up brunch, made chit-chat with the guys, hugged the child, and after an hour or so of bullshit, food and coffee retreated in here to once again sulk, mutter and growl. Less than 45 minutes later Wolf barges in and says Mick's nephew, Jon, was here. Huh? Nobody was expecting Jon, least of all me. Okay fine, Jon was in the neighborhood killing time while his father and his babe entertained his mother (Jon's other grandmother and our near neighbor) for a while before the three of them trekked off to New Paltz. Don't misunderstand, I like Jon. A lot. He's a great kid and if circumstance were otherwise I�d eat him for cougar bait, the both of us better for it. But, Jay-sus! All I wanted was to NOT be on hostess duty! I was in NO mood to be charming. Things being as they may, I ended up talking with Jon about everything from clean water and the EPA to doing zong hits. A few cups of (legal) herbal tea later Jon calls his dad and invites him and his lady friend over to say hello and visit for a while. Great. So there I am with my cruddy living room, no make-up, shitty attitude and massive desire to be BY MYSELF and I'm graciously entertaining my SIL's ex-husband and his babe and still making small talk and being ridiculously charming. Finally all the guests go on their merry way and I slope in here to brood. 5 hours now of unexpected and unwelcome company. I'm in a hellacious mood by now and am aching for some downtime and to be left alone, fer christssake. Mick and Wolf tootle off to the store to buy batteries for Wolf's new alarm clock and some light bulbs (half of the bulbs on the ground floor have blown in the last 48 hours) and before I can completely relax they're back. Barging into my office wanting to show me the loot and gagging for me to praise them and exclaim about what a fucking wonderful job they've done in securing such exotic household goods. Shit. Well fine. I do and then once again BEG to be left the hell alone before I go out of my gourd for-freaking-ever. The Mother is OFF DUTY. Get a clue. Drop the dime already and do everybody a huge, okay? Leave. Me. ALONE. They manage this for a whole 45 minutes!!!! Wow. Then, of course, Mick gets into a blazing row with the Barky's next-door. I shit you not. The dog, that moronic, harmless, manner-less 110lb Rottweiler went off its chump and lunged frothing and snarling at Mick while he (Mick) was detailing his truck. Screaming match ensues between Mrs Barky and my short-tempered mate. I ignore it as best I can, but noooooo in comes Mick to demand my loyalty and make me barf up a lung to prove how much I'm on his side about this latest round of Irishman vs Idiotic Dog Owner. Despite throwing up in my mouth from the stress I take the expedient route and listen to Mick while he offloads a humongus budget of angry bullshit. Then he boils back outside to start Round Two. Enough. Seriously. E-fucking-NOUGH! I march outside, force my way into the middle of this crap fest, insist that everyone (including my frothing, irrationally screaming husband) take a goddamn chill pill, behave like grown ups and make nice. No such luck. More yadda. More profanity. More bullshit. All shrieked across the 15' of yard between their place and ours. Yay. Everyone retreats to their respective houses, some to gear up for yet another round of screeching, and me, who promptly bursts into tears and does a little yelling of her own, mostly about the idiocy of being at war with neighbors over a dog that might live for another 5 years but our goddamn mortgage has another 19 years to go. Then thank you so very, very much. So far today I've been chef, tea hostess, and chatelaine to Mick's riding partner, his nephew, his ex-BIL and his new squeeze, I've mothered the kid, mediated a fricken border war and have STILL yet to have 20 solid minutes of privacy or peace. I make it ENTIRELY clear to Mick if he wants to stay married to me that he get gone� NOW. He does. Realizing he's made an ass of himself, or in some dim corner of his mind acknowledges he'd like to get laid again sometime this century, Mick takes it upon himself to go make peace with the Barky's. Which he does, handsomely. I trudge out to make sure negotiations go smoothly and the treaty will stick (at least for a few months) and finally, finally, finally I am allowed to crawl back into my office and get some alone time. Whereupon the child comes running in to remind me there's still half a ream of forms to fill out before tomorrow. Yes, goddamnit, I signed, initialed, checked boxes, signed again, read, filled in addresses, emergency contacts, doctors' names and numbers, gave permissions, waived waivers, filled in blanks, and put my signature in a dozen dozen other places. Fuck. Fuckity. Fuckity. Fuck.
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