Thursday, October 31, 2013
I am “mistaken”; he wouldn’t lie
Tonight was heading in the direction of pleasant yesterdays; but then 10.00 pm came around and the Squeeze left to collect the hygiene king from somewhere in Box Hill.
Upon return, the Squeeze ran around like a mother hen. Ummm this kid is 16, yet is somehow incapable of doing anything for himself; including turning on the microwave it would seem. (Thank you, you velvet wearing, poncho donning harridan…) So the Squeeze dashes about serving him reheated Mexican (which I might add was fantastic at 7pm).
I had a movie on. The old Eddie and the Cruisers. If you haven’t seen it, do yourself a favour because it was fantastic. It may have been from 1983, but we did some good stuff in those days and Michael Paré was a dish…. The Dark Side was great.
So the kid comes in and the Squeeze is juggling dishes like a carnie clown and the kid slinks off to go to the loo near the staircase; where upon I pause the movie.
The Squeeze says “what are you doing…?” and I reply “nothing…” but I sit, ear cocked. Then I hear the button press and 3.7 seconds later, the door opens and the kid proceeds to swank out of the toilet, dripping penis germs in his wake. So I turn and say to the idiot that I live with “can you get him to go back and wash his hands please, the tap didn’t turn on.”
The kid enters the room and the Squeeze says “If you didn’t wash your hands… Go do it.” And the kid turns and looks him in the eye and says “I did.” Liar.
My blood boiled as the idiot just took him at his word; because I am “mistaken”; the little angle/peniwhacker wouldn’t lie.
So I give it two minutes and then leave the room to fluff around with washing and then go to the bathroom and run my hand across the bone dry sink, tap and towel. Lying little pig. So while the Squeeze is mother henning, thinking I’m “picking on his poor little creep”, the creep in question is touching my fridge, dishes, table, chair, dishwasher and sink with his peniewhacker infested chipolatas.
So after 3.9 minutes, when he has shoved food down his face and is off upstairs; I turn to the Squeeze and mention the fact that the kid is a liar because the sink, towel and plug are bone dry – and next time when I say “talk to the hand” at the thought of an extra evening with this little pig, maybe he should remember that I now have to throw out anything he went near, for fear of his penie juice over everything; not to mention the fact that I then have to spend fifteen minutes using the spray Pineoclean and a cloth to wipe over everything he touched. And then wipe it over again; just in case.
And he wonders why I don’t want him here and won’t take on one extra second!
Posted by Mistress at 11:13 PM