Just Quietly...

Little Son has Chicken Pox and couldn't go to his Custody Date to the park with Dad...

I would have told Hubby that; had he not hung up on Me twelve seconds into the conversation.

He eventually rang back about the dog's medicine...

Me: I need Worming tablets. And something for the fleas. And dog food would be nice.

(NB He has only been providing two cans of dog food and a small bag of dog biscuits per fortnight but is happily ensconcing it at home with his Mother's tit in his mouth. As it always has been.)

He shouted at me that I should be able to provide for the dog ("Look after it Yourself you Dumb Bitch) and hung up; before I had the chance to tell him Little Son had stayed home from school for the day with a fever.

It spiked about seven last night. Little Son told me he was Drifting; even though he'd been asleep half of the day at Grandma's while I had been at work. I got him a flannel and told him to watch out for angry red rashes. Just in case it's Menningoccal disease.

In the morning he complained of a Rice Bubble. The Pox. I called the school.

I saw Damon at he Pub in the afternoon; he was playing darts with FiFi and Matty. Kicking their collective arses. They were playing 301 but he was playing down from 501 and still beating them easily; and they are both fair Players.

I was meant to go back for FiFi's birthday tonight. She's 34 today; a year younger than me. And she knows what's going on. We're going to see Pink in June. I paid for the ticket on my credit card last week...

So Hubby and I had a fight again; about the dog; about how little time he has spent with Little Son; about his fishing trip away last weekend. He has the hide to tell me that I've been fucking up. I tell him what I do is None of His business. He glares at me. I give him the Bird. He fucks off.

Half an hour later I walk down the street to buy Little Son and me our dinner. Hubby's at the Pub; with Twink. I haven't been able to go to the bank this morning because Twink hadn't sent in a form to Social Security informing them of mine and Hubby's separation. They have suspended my payments until Friday; it's sorted now but still a massive pain in the arse. All of my Direct Debits that aren't honoured in the next few days will incur me bank fees. This. I do Not need.

But anyway...

I get home with my groceries, wine, child and illegitimate dog. I call my friend Chrissy to discuss the weekend. In the meanwhile I get a text.

Hubby: I hate you. You are a liar and a mental slut.

Me: Does that mean I Think...as well as fuck?

(NB This appealed to my inner Descartes...he, however, missed the Proverbial Boat when it comes to Innuendo or Suggestion of Thoghut; YES; I mean to write Thoghut. Apparently I'm as fucked up as the word is.)

Hubby: You are as ugly on the inside as you are on the outside. You don't think and you are a shit fuck. I hope you die alone.

Me: I'm Cerebral. Not Palsied. Tell that to all your Pre-school buddies.

(NB I know this last dig would have hurt...his Mother is a Speech pathologist with DOCS and used to work at a preschool where Hubby was the only child enrolled who wasn't (supposedly) mentally or physically handicapped. Me referring to that Should have shut him up).

Hubby: You're the biggest Fuck-up I ever met.

I turned off my phone after this.

I hate him. It's done.

And just Quietly ???

I can't wait to see my One-Night-Stand.

For the Fifth time.