My new hubby Phil is at it again. I keep telling him that his damn friends need to stop calling here, asking him to go do stuff with them. Phil's a married man, which means his ass is busy! He doesn't have time to go whorin' around with his blotchy-faced buddies at the off-tracking betting parlor or whatever! So tonight and every night, he's here at my goddamn beck and call because the bitch knows what's good for him!
He doesn't know it, but I overheard him the other day, talking about how much he misses hunting season with the boys, or the occasional week in Vegas. He even had the nerve to refer to all his vacation time as wasted on what he referred to as "Jocelyncations". Apparently he doesn't like being forced to go with me when I visit my peoples in Jacksonville every year. Tough tit, hubby. That's your job!
He's also been trying to sneak out with his friends on weekends, especially during football season. But then I catch on and remind him that I need him to drive me and my friends down to the Wicker Barn (wicker outlet!) in Augusta, Georgia. He should be happy! This is his chance to drive his precious Caliber , while me and my girls get drunk in the passenger seats and laugh and carry on like a bunch of cackling hens!
In an effort to keep the peace, I've made a deal with Phil. For one night each month I'll stay home and babysit my kids so he can go out and do something he wants to do. The only condition is that he needs to bring my preteen son Brandon along so the boy can learn from being around the guys. What he doesn't know is that Brandon is mommy's little snitch, so if there's any funny business it's Phil's ass!