Is this the picture of the cup that turned out to be the last straw? Yes, indeed it was. I was working yesterday – a blistering 7.5 hours of typing – and I get an IM from hubby. I had sent him a list of chores for the kids to do, but he didn’t have time to give it to him cause he was working from home. Too late. Apparently he lost his temper with the girlfriend. OMG. Why do things always happen when I’m not home? He had pulled the garbage out from under the sink last night, full to the brim, and girlfriend had dumped her gigantic big cup on top. In true prosecutorial style, cause that’s how he gets mad, he starts asking who’s cup is this?!!! Nephew says its girlfriend’s and she’s brought to the witness stand to testify on her behalf. Deer in headlights. In short, he made it clear that had I come home to this, he would have kicked their asses. It’s official, he hates her. And he made that perfectly clear when he came to pick me up last night. I’ll leave out the expletives, but “lazy” was the kindest word. He’s right about that, I’m afraid. It’s a little tough to watch while I clean all day, make dinner, we paid for kayaking, ice cream, movies on the weekend and not once has she actually volunteered to help with anything. I always have to ask first. (However, I did try to tell him that whenever they go out they ask if I need anything but I don’t.) Nephew is much more thoughtful and meticulous, and I notice how she always manages to slink away for a cigarette while he completes the task. She arrived with shockingly little cash and nephew has been paying for everything which frankly I don’t care, that’s his problem. It’s his perogative if he wants to take care of his girlfriend. I just told hubby to keep his nasty thoughts to himself – you know young love, any opposition and it just makes their bond stronger than ever. I know, cause I did it.
I sat him down this morning for a little chat and told him that it might be a good idea if he spent time with his uncle alone. I myself hadn’t spent any one on one time with him either. And I missed him. Oh, well, I guess I’m learning my lesson with teenagers early on. Always leave explicit direction and while hubby likes to make noise, I favour the iron fist in a velvet glove approach.