Sunday, May 02, 2004
Just a brief update for the weekend:
Sat. evening @5pm: Call home. Shitfoot asks when I'll come home because he NEEDS to go out--the kids have been driving him CRAZY.
10:20pm: arrive home, he's drinking wine and watching Kill Bill.
11pm: Yummy Honey calls me from work (his bouncer job) just to chat [*sigh*]
11:15: his ride arrives, leaves
5:45am: Shitfoot stumbles through the house, dogs go nuts. I get up to corral them and put them in their crates just in time to see him walking out the front door. I lock up the dogs and peek out the window. The cab is still sitting in the driveway. He must not have had the cash to pay the guy. I went to the bathroom and peeked out the window again, and the cab backed into the street, but sat there. I kept watching, and it left after about 2 minutes. The house was quiet. I looked for Shitfoot, but couldn't find him anywhere. I went into his room and looked out the windows to see if I could see him lying on the driveway somewhere. No sign of him. Good riddance, right?
7am: Time to get up for school. Gotta be there at 8. Shitfoot is passed out on his bed now. Never heard him come back in. The front door is still ajar. I get ready for class.
7:45: Show Sam how to call me on my cell phone.
8:30: Call MIL to see if she can drive down. She can't. But she said she'd call the house periodically to check on the kids. I said I'd do the same.
10am: After at least 4 calls home chatting with kids, Shitfoot finally answers the phone.
"What's up?"
"Just trying to get your ass out of bed."
"OK, are you going to be at work all day."
"Yes."
"OK, talk to you later."
10:10: Instructor says I should go home, she understands I'm worried about my kids.
10:15: Come home, house is quiet. Dogs bark uncontrollably when I come in, and I find the kids in Shitfoot's room, with the door locked. They start yelling, "It's MOM! MOM'S HOME! OPEN THE DOOR!!" A few seconds of fumbling, and they get the door open. The lights are on, and a few toys are strewn across the bed. He is lying on his stomach, and doesn't move. "Come on, guys. Let's get out of here." They scamper out and I shut the door. He still doesn't move.
11:45: I take the kids to lunch.
12:50: Arrive back home. Shitfoot is standing at the sink, surrounded by all the liquor and wine bottles in the house. Pouring them all down the drain. He even drained the grenedine. I wonder if he knew there's no booze in that...
1pm: All is right with the world. There's no need for me to kick him out. Hell, no need for a divorce, right? And let's all go live in Happy Fun Land where hugs are the only currency you need to get by.
1:30: Call Yummy Honey to put off our plans by a couple hours so I can make sure Shitfoot is really up and awake for the day. God knows I don't want to leave them with him if this is an act. Also, find the least awkward way to inform him that the old Monthly Problem arrived 3 days early, just in time to quash the racier end of our plans. He was disappointed, but I wonder if he realized the pun when he said he'd just "go with the flow."
Sat. evening @5pm: Call home. Shitfoot asks when I'll come home because he NEEDS to go out--the kids have been driving him CRAZY.
10:20pm: arrive home, he's drinking wine and watching Kill Bill.
11pm: Yummy Honey calls me from work (his bouncer job) just to chat [*sigh*]
11:15: his ride arrives, leaves
5:45am: Shitfoot stumbles through the house, dogs go nuts. I get up to corral them and put them in their crates just in time to see him walking out the front door. I lock up the dogs and peek out the window. The cab is still sitting in the driveway. He must not have had the cash to pay the guy. I went to the bathroom and peeked out the window again, and the cab backed into the street, but sat there. I kept watching, and it left after about 2 minutes. The house was quiet. I looked for Shitfoot, but couldn't find him anywhere. I went into his room and looked out the windows to see if I could see him lying on the driveway somewhere. No sign of him. Good riddance, right?
7am: Time to get up for school. Gotta be there at 8. Shitfoot is passed out on his bed now. Never heard him come back in. The front door is still ajar. I get ready for class.
7:45: Show Sam how to call me on my cell phone.
8:30: Call MIL to see if she can drive down. She can't. But she said she'd call the house periodically to check on the kids. I said I'd do the same.
10am: After at least 4 calls home chatting with kids, Shitfoot finally answers the phone.
"What's up?"
"Just trying to get your ass out of bed."
"OK, are you going to be at work all day."
"Yes."
"OK, talk to you later."
10:10: Instructor says I should go home, she understands I'm worried about my kids.
10:15: Come home, house is quiet. Dogs bark uncontrollably when I come in, and I find the kids in Shitfoot's room, with the door locked. They start yelling, "It's MOM! MOM'S HOME! OPEN THE DOOR!!" A few seconds of fumbling, and they get the door open. The lights are on, and a few toys are strewn across the bed. He is lying on his stomach, and doesn't move. "Come on, guys. Let's get out of here." They scamper out and I shut the door. He still doesn't move.
11:45: I take the kids to lunch.
12:50: Arrive back home. Shitfoot is standing at the sink, surrounded by all the liquor and wine bottles in the house. Pouring them all down the drain. He even drained the grenedine. I wonder if he knew there's no booze in that...
1pm: All is right with the world. There's no need for me to kick him out. Hell, no need for a divorce, right? And let's all go live in Happy Fun Land where hugs are the only currency you need to get by.
1:30: Call Yummy Honey to put off our plans by a couple hours so I can make sure Shitfoot is really up and awake for the day. God knows I don't want to leave them with him if this is an act. Also, find the least awkward way to inform him that the old Monthly Problem arrived 3 days early, just in time to quash the racier end of our plans. He was disappointed, but I wonder if he realized the pun when he said he'd just "go with the flow."
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