Mabel must simply be in one of those moods cause she has definitely got the "find fault with everything" thought process going. She came out for dinner tonight and made a comment about the floors looking good (I had cleaned and sealed the stained concrete). Of course this was quickly followed up with a comment of "I hope they aren't slippery". She wanted to know if I used the sealer on the tile, duh...not necessary. She continued to mumble about it and I told her if she knew of any better floor material she could pay for it and have installed. She goes further into tantrum stage and I do not give a flying fuck!!
She rarely says when she likes something, she does not plan any meal...ever. But she is good at giving me a fucking grocery list with things like; mini ritz--NOT ritz mix, or SMALL bananas. Duh! Like I can force Trader Joe's to unload only the 5 inch bananas?? Not to mention when she wants something that is not carried in the half dozen stores I may frequent. I know that I can go to Longs in Grossmont Center to get 8 hour Tylenol, cause Mabel does not use Target brand, she does not want the extra strength Tylenol, she wants the 8 hour Tylenol. I cannot tell you how many stores I went to trying to find those things......
I often worry that I will die before her and never see the light of freedom. Sometimes I worry that I will lose my grip on reality and chop her up into small pieces and bury her somewhere in the desert, not the backyard, way too close.
Catharsis, I could do a whole stand up routine on Mabel issues.
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