mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- July 4th - A Day That Will Live In Infamy So the day began at the butt crack of dawn, when Damian rises and shrieks (and shrieks and shrieks). I roll over and nudge Pete, please make with the coffee quick. The spouse obliges. He knows I'm not a morning person (it wasn't that long ago that 5:00 A.M. was the time I'd be getting home and starting my R.E.M. pattern). Once I am adequately convinced that their will be a full mug awaiting my arrival, I rise. It's 5:30 A.M. and the shrieking has yet to stop. I expect to find Stew, Marge, Damian, and Pete all in attendance for breakfast but I am told that Stew has decided to sleep in. Apparently, he's quite tired. Me f*cking too - now get your lazy ass up. Marge manages to fill Damian's sippy cup with the organic milk I'd purchased in accordance with their pre-visit grocery list. She then begins to tell us how they had not one, but two meals the previous day at Burger King!!!! These people demanded I purchase goods from Whole Foods for them and yet they are eating fast food - tell me, what's that all about? Well, before I can question their "healthy" lifestyle, Damian picks up his sippy cup and hurls it at the wall. Milk splashes everywhere. I wait for Damian's head to start spinning around and for him to spew pea soup. Our morning meal consists mainly of flung food, screaming, and final another slap for Marge. This is not a good way to start the day. Stew finally graces us with his presence - two hours later. I offer him a cup of coffee. He allows me to pour about and inch of java into the mug and then fills the rest of the glass with milk (organic of course) and spoonful after spoonful of sugar. I'm not sure why this bothered me so. Perhaps it's that I live in Seattle and take my coffee seriously or maybe it's that I wonder what the point of this concoction is. Most likely, it's just that I have already realized I hate Stew and anything he does at this point is likely to piss me off. Pete makes the suggestion that we all get ready and get out of the house. I can see that he's fearing for our happy home and precious belongings. Damian has already thrown a dish which remarkable didn't break. He has smeared eggs on the wall. He's pulled the dog's tail twice and Des is now hiding in his crate. He's screamed almost relentlessly since we rose. And it's not even 8:00 A.M. We need to leave before things get uglier. I offer Marge and Stew towels for their bathing pleasure. They decline. Marge shares that they "only shower about once a week if that" - what?!! And they are sleeping in my spare bed? Note to self: remember to burn those sheets. Fast forward an hour, we're at the supermarket picking up the picnic lunch that we are going to have at the beach. Damian is crying. Stew and Marge are trying to navigate the salad bar as Pete and I obtain sandwiches. Damian disappears. No one notices. Marge asks Stew if it is okay for her to get some pasta salad. Stew asks how much it costs. Marge tells him $5.99 a pound. Stew allows her to get "only a little." You see Stew and Marge have separate bank accounts which would be all fine and good except that Marge is no longer holding a job outside the home. She takes care of Damian full time. So she has no monetary income thus there is no money in her account. She receives a small allowance from Stew, once she spends that, she's screwed. Do I need to elaborate on how wrong this is? No, I think not. A shriek pierces my train of thought (something along the lines of "damn Stew is an asshole"). Damian is in the wine aisle, moments away from destroying multiple bottles of Cabernet. He is caught just prior to any real damage being done. Damned if you can't see the devil in that kids eyes. Oh and just an aside, they buy NO organic food. It's all processed ham and cheap white bread. Gah, I am exasperated just remembering. Somehow we make it to the beach. Damian cries some more. I throw down a blanket as far from the monster as I can. Stew joins me while Pete and Marge and the kid head down to the water. I close my eyes tight and pray for sleep (or even death) and then Stew opens his mouth. "I tell you," he says. "Having children is so rewarding. Damian is such an angel." "Really," I respond. "I don't see it. It's certainly not my gig." "Oh," he responds. "It's wonderful raising children. You know Marge has a hard time but then again we've been having troubles in our marriage. You know she's going up to her parents place for four weeks to get away from me. We're in marriage counseling right now. We're not getting along well at all." Say what?!! I don't even look at the guy or respond. I've met Stew one other time. Pete has been around Stew a total of three times. Stew should not be telling us about his marital problems. Stew should be watching his kid and letting me nap. Stew should be opening a joint bank account with his wife. Stew should go back to the East Coast where he came from. I get the hell away from Stew and tell Pete of the exchange. I suggest we go home as soon as possible. I really don't want to share in this guys awful, awful life. Okay, that's as much as I can write in one sitting. It's like regression therapy, you don't want to delve too deep in a single session. Next episode: July 4th 1:00 P.M. till 7:00 P.M. 9:50 p.m. - 2003-07-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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