Yes, a close call to smashing the prick.
Its funny how you can put up with so much…then you lose it. Not when you’d expect…always when you least expect.
I came home, looking forward to a quiet ten minutes with my book. It’s what I need most days after work. It’s what I get about twice a week.
I decided to make homemade rissoles. So, there I was 2 hours later finishing the cleaning up from the rissoles. They were cooked. The vegies done, onion gravy made…and no, no time for a break. It doesn’t matter…really…but then CEF walked in. He’d been down at the shed leaning in the doorway, drinking beer and talking shit on the phone with whatever scumbag it might have been.
He said “Dint ya put wood on the fire?”
Now, it was only a question, albeit, one with a loaded accusation.
I said no, I hadn’t because I’d been busy cooking and cleaning up. He made a snorting sound…and in that moment in time as I looked at the bastard I could have smashed him into the ground.
I let fly verbally and he did the whole shaking his head thing…like there’s something wrong with ME! And there really would be by now…for sure. But this is what he does…he’s good, I have to give him that. I would not be the first woman who looks like a crazed witch because of the treatment he’s given us. No way.
He was saying with a nasty smirk “I didn’t fuckin say nothin! I don’t mind gettin the fuckin wood!”
And that’s what he tells people.
He’s good.
afrownlikemalice 