Dee

Nov 2

The Chat

“Really?” I glare at Bobby.

He doesn’t even look up from that stupid newspaper he has in his hands.

After a momentary pause, he yawns “Yes, dear?” still not looking up.

“What the hell is the matter with you?”

“I am not sure what you are talking about, Ashley.”

He knows damn right what I’m talking about. “You know damn right what I’m talking about.”

            “If this is about me not coming home until late last night…I’m sorry but I told you I had a staff pa-“ at this point, I am enraged.

“I KNOW. You had a staff party. But you did EXACTLY what I told you not to do. You got stupidly drunk and drove home. You’re not a teenager any more, get over yourself! I knew I should have made you take a cab, or carpool.”

“Look,” he starts, “I know I messed up but I didn’t wreck the car, and you are exaggerating, I was not that drunk…”

“You stumbled into bed and smelled like you had been bathing in tequila.”  He knows that he is an idiot, right?

“I know I’m an idiot.”

“You were supposed to pick up milk for the kids cereal.”

Now Bobby is sheepish. “I’m in the doghouse aren’t I?”

I always get the last word. “Woof.” I sneer. And with that, I turned out the light, and went to sleep.