Tuesday, March 2, 2004

Looking forward to spring thaw.

The boy is trying to break me. The last two mornings afternoons I have woken up to the boy still asleep on the sofa.

"The alarm never went off." Convenient.

Not only that but the house is a mess. Now when I say mess, I mean you would not believe it. Picture a frat house after a week-long kegger party. No exaggeration.

Last night I get home after working 14 hours. I pull into the driveway and it is orange. I bought a mega box of fruit drink pouches and he has squirted them all over the driveway. Great, why didn't I just burn the money on the way home.

I walk into the kitchen and the clothes that I put in the washer this morning are in a heap. The boy has done his laundry and mine gets to dry on the floor. Great, have to start that process all over again. On to the living room, there is a tv dinner plate upside down on the carpet, and as luck would have it, it had contained dipping sauce. I say 'had contained' because it is now part of the carpet along with the chocolate brownie thingy that accompanied it.

I look up and see the familiar orange drink running down the wall. Well it was obviously running at some point, but now it is dried into a sticky mess. When I ask him about this he says, �It wasn�t me.�

Ok, that shit worked for me because I had 5 brothers and sisters. I could use that argument because there was a chance that it may not have been me. But the boy doesn�t grasp this concept.

�There is only you and I living here! I know it wasn�t me, therefore it HAS to be you! Otherwise we have a serious security breach here. Who the FUCK is coming in my house and squirting juice on the wall?�

I turn around and walk back through the kitchen, I try not to look at the table because I know that it is covered with a sticky substance the kind that used to be something liquid but has since dried. Most likely pop. The boy spills it every single time and then walks away. As I walk through the kitchen I also notice that my feet are sticking, so he as managed to hit the floor a couple of times with something. Just let me get to the bathroom and splash some water on my face.

It was a nice thought, but the sink is full of water and something that resembles beefaroni, only the sauce has dissolved. The boy has dumped it in the bathroom sink because, after all, the kitchen sink is filled to capacity with dirty dishes. I understand the reasoning. Ok, so no water from the sink, try the tub. Well that would work if there wasn�t cat shit on the floor in front of me.

He is home for two days, he is not obviously cleaning the house, why can�t he at least let the FUCKING CATS OUT????

Short of killing the boy, I don�t know what to do. I have taken the guitars, and deleted his profile on the computer, I have changed the password so he can�t get on mine and severed the link for internet access to his. If this house is not clean when I get home from work tonight, I am selling everything he thinks he owns.

If this doesn�t work? I will have to wait for spring to dig a hole in the backyard.

And one of us is going in it.

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