Two hours.... that is how long it took G to do the dishes this evening. Two hours of hysterical fake tears, back talking, pretending he didnt know where anything goes or how to load a dishwasher, asking where in the dishwasher he should put every single dish, trying to tell us it wouldnt all fit, pretending his head hurt, then his stomach hurt and he couldnt do it anymore. Two hours of sitting there ignoring everything he was trying to engage us in, while enforcing that he wouldnt leave the kitchen until he finished his chore. Actual time it took him to load the supper dishes, wipe down the counters, and sweep the floor...15 minutes. Amount of help actually needed to load all the dishes into the dish washer, find the correct places for stuff on the counter, and finish the job...none. Probably a good thing Im pregnant, because I swear nights like this could drive me to become a closet drunk some times, lol.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Sep 2014 04:52:28 +0000
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