What’s with the Creamy Soda?

Last night was quiet around our place; well kind of.  The Girl had gone off on a “date” (I think) with the boyfriend come ex boyfriend and we got home, walked and then settled in to routine.

I’m not sure if he was in a particularly suicidal mood, or maybe I was just in a homicidal one, either way, it was one of those nights where every time he opened his mouth, I seriously wanted to put my fist in it.

In the calm light of day, I feel no less irritated.  Why is this person incapable of understanding what I believe, any mentally deficient person could pick up with ease?  And how do you get to 56, with no idea of relationships?  At least how do you get to 56 without being stabbed at least a couple of times!

Last night we had several run ins where my anger spiked to the point of conniption; where I actually wondered if I may just choke on my spleen or maybe my heart would just give up the ghost.

Firstly, a group of his friends were together and decided to call him so put him on speaker phone.  I had met one of the couples, but not the other which could be construed as weird, given that we have been going out together for two years and are, in fact, living together.

So in his first 3 sentences of discussion, I hear him say “you sound like the Harridan” (obviously using her name).

I huffed from the room and went off to shower, but upon my return, I asked how his friends are ever expected to associate “us” as an “us”, when he drags the ex wife into every conversation.  In my mind, even if he is insulting, that is simply reaffirming a “Moodle/Harridan” combo. 

Did he get what I was talking about?  Not a chance!  Damned idiot is incapable of understanding the intricacies of a relationship and inherited friends.  And this is particularly difficult given that they never actually separated anything.  Oh they separated the money; she took that, that’s for sure – but she wouldn’t relinquish the friends, so there is this weird three-way friendship thing ongoing.

My anger was still on a hair trigger (and remains there) when he waltzes in to the lounge room to flop on the sofa only pausing to ask: “whose is that can of creamy soda?”  He teams this with “the look”; the raised eyebrows.

So the question, when combined with his “look” basically said “whoooa; steady on there fatso.  What happened to the diet?”

Now to give you the whole picture; this is from a guy who went out for dinner and a movie the night before, complete with stuffing a Choc Top down his throat.  Then he arrives home earlier than I from work, where he proceeds to eat his way through the have bag of nuts that is left.  And all this before feeling superior because of his choice to have Lite and Easy for dinner…

After I gave him a tongue lashing I decided to snap an unsuspecting photo of Peter Perfect on my iPhone (below).

Yes people, this is what is giving me dieting lectures!!!!!!!!!!!

Moron.