I knew leaving for four days on business would yield a hot mess house upon my return. If the below text wasn’t an omen, I don’t know what was. It cracks me up he wanted a table cloth. Has anyone seen anyone play poker on a formal table cloth?
After 4, 12 hour days the trip was over and I was making my way home from the airport. I arrived home around 11:30 to find my youngest had waited up for me but had fallen asleep on the sofa. I picked him up and carried him to bed.
I came back down and flipped on the light which was my first mistake. Just over yonder (what the hell is yonder? Sounds like an Amish last name if you ask me) and saw something on the floor. At first I thought it was just another fur tumbleweed courtesy of my chihuahua. As I got closer, I realized a chunk of the floor had been ripped out.
Here it is:
“What happened here?” I said attempting to keep my cool despite extreme exhaustion and completely enraged.
“Oh yeah, we don’t know,” my husband responded as if I had asked him what the weather will be like tomorrow.
I didn’t want to start a fight yet in my head I was screaming “Liar!” This crater was smack dab right in front of our table! It can be seen right when you open the front door. How the fuck could you not know how this happened? I would be getting to the bottom of this but for now I was stupid tired, had no wine to calm my nerves and Downton Abbey would be rerunning at 1 am.
I took the next day off and awoke to my son hugging me at 6:45 am. So precious. I came downstairs and like realizing your reality wasn’t a nightmare, stared down at the gash in our floor. I pursed my lips completely pissed off.
“Baby, how did this this boo-boo happen?” I asked sweetly as I pointed to the floor. I wanted to tell C that no matter how much dad was paying him for his silence, I would pay him exponentially more. Name your price. X Box game? Gum? Later bedtime? Name your price. He must have paid him off with a life long supply of Pokemon because he wouldn’t budge.
The final straw was the island. Our island had shit all over it- water bottles, a dart board, bills and just a plethora of things. God we are messy. In the middle of the island was a deck of cards, surely left over from Saturday night when I was still traveling. I picked up the cards and let out the largest gasp of my life. I don’t know if it was beer or a grape Capri Sun but the queen at the bottom of the deck had transferred over to my island because she had laid in a pool of liquid, thus staining it.
I tried to remain cool, imagining myself as a senior citizen telling my son’s girlfriend about the stain on the island and how I like it there because the house feels lived in. Fuck that, this was the last straw.
“What-the-hell?! What in the world? If this doesn’t come off, you need to go to Lowe’s and buy a new island stat!”
Again, acting as if he had amnesia, his only response from over on the sofa playing candy crush was, “what?”
I scrubbed that shit like Single White Female. I don’t care if my husband had to go out and get a magic sponge or whatever he wanted to call it but this stain was coming off. Even though it came off after the 3rd spray, I sprayed it a few more times scrubbing ferociously, acting as if it wasn’t quiet off just to get my point across that I wasn’t happy.
So how about you? What train wrecks have you come home to after travel? I can only imagine.