Conspiracy

My family is trying to drive me into the nuthouse. And I wasn't too far from the front door to begin with. Over the weekend, my husband found great delight in doing all the things that get under my skin.... talking about my jobs, i.e. laundry, dishes, toilet scrubbin'... then he would say "why can't you stop being violent.. don't you love me" while grinning. The kids must have picked up on his cue and began to tag team me with requests and complaints galore. Cory tried to make olive oil and herb pasta.... with vegetable oil! Later he made spaghetti in a dirty pot! GRRR....

So I thought the tides were turning when we went furniture shopping. We have been in heavy want of a new couch and such. Ted was finally convinced and we bought two couches. Yippee!!! Until he started talking about how I should be nice to him since he bought me furniture. What the... huh?! Am I the only one who sits on this stuff? Am I the only one who enjoys its comforts? I think not.

By the end of the weekend I had threatened everyone (and I mean everyone) that I was gonna kill 'em. Just dig a hole under the house, bury them up to their nose, and let the worms crawl in and finish the job.

They seemed to have straightened their acts out for today. But I am prepared with shovel in hand to take care of these yahoos if they get to feelin' froggy again!

:0)