Mood: Aggravated. I hate when stuff disappears
Listening to: Some Beautiful Silence
Daddy G came home the other day with a more serious than usual expression on his face. I was sweaty (from the weather), exasperated (from the children) and hormonal (from, well, hormones. Girls have PMS hormones, let’s let it go already). This is never a good entry for a scene, but it does set the state for what comes next.
Daddy G: I have some news that you really won’t like, but I have to tell you.
I froze and got that deer in the headlights look that says I’m about to hear about an affair, a lost job, a death or something similarly serious. Daddy G of course took his sweet time continuing. This drives me nuts, but he does it all the time. Daddy G hates breaking bad news to me because I inevitably overreact and he hates confrontation.
Daddy G: I have to go to the US in June.
Daddy G: And September.
Me: Are you fucking kidding me? No.
Daddy G: Yes. My boss says blah blah blah I am needed in the US. (I honestly can’t remember what he said, I was trying to remove half of the red from my vision and stop my blood pressure from rising any further)
Me: Was something about “no” unclear?
I knew I was being bitchy, but I really didn’t care at that time.
Daddy G: Don’t be like this Becky.
Me: And why the hell not? You told me twice a year. Already once this year you’ve been gone for almost 2 months.
Daddy G: It won’t be that long this time. You know that was for citizenship purposes.
Me: I think you’re missing the point here. We both know I am able to do it, but I don’t WANT to be left here to deal with life, the kids school, and the kids craziness all by myself.
Daddy G: I know.
Me: Not only that, both the times you are going are times when the kids and I can’t come with you. They have school. I was looking forward to going to the US on your company’s generousness.
Part of the draw of Daddy G’s company is that they will fly us to the US with him when he goes, but we have to arrange the trip when our kids have school vacation. School starts in June and there are no holidays in September.
Daddy G: I know. Look Becky, I just brought you all to Sri Lanka for a family trip that we all enjoyed.
Me: I will not be bribed. Or shamed into being quiet.
Daddy G: I know.
Me: You better stop sayin I know, mister.
Daddy G: Sigh. I’m sorry it’s worked out like this, can you please stop pouting and talk to me about this like
a grown up?
Me: Danger Daddy G, Danger. It is not my fault that you spring this shit on me when I have PMS and am least able to deal with it like a mature adult. You should count yourself lucky that the shoes are two rooms away. I really, really feel like being super immature and chucking some shoes. At you.
At this point Daddy G started laughing and hugged me. As usual, my tantrum about anything related to his work is acknowledged, but really doesn’t ever change a damn thing.
Me: You do know that if you leave again without buying a car I will get extremely stabby and probably not be here when you get back.
More laughter. Sigh. At least I can have the bed and the fan to myself.