And Then He Threw His Whopper w/Cheese At Me

Sometimes I wish I could spend everyday drunk. It seems to me that everything pissy would seem more comical if only I were drunk.

Sunday was typical. Every Sunday my husband and I engage in our ritual faux Christian participation. We go to church and shake hands with all the other members who A.) don't know our names and B.) barely speak to us. Then we listen to a sermon about acceptance, forgiveness, not judging others...and my husband shakes his head in agreement as he listens. He smile and laughs at all of the little jokes the pastor tells and does his best to appear very enthused about the message.


Then we get in the car in route to our routine Sunday brunch. The berating begins... Now he has me in the car for 20-30 minutes and I have no choice but to listen. At this point I begin to hear about all of my failings. You see the sermons are always geared towards me. I am a horrible bitch, I don't clean, I don't cook, I barely take care of my children (his words -not mine). The conversation is laced with words like bitch, retarded bitch, cunt, and whore while my children sit in the back seat and listen. He then tells me all that he does for the family-thankless tasks is what he calls them. For instance he takes out the garbage, mows the lawn and retrieves the mail- all this in addition to holding gainful employment.

I suppose I do have a bad attitude. These thankless tasks, as he calls them, are simply part of life. I dress the children, pack lunches, take them to school, clean, do laundry, pick them up and take them to whatever extra activity they are involved in at that time. I sit down and do homework with them every night, give them baths and put them to bed. This is just a simplistic view of my day because I obviously have other things to do like drs appts, pay bills etc. No one gives me a fucking prize or special praise for doing it.

He often makes a big deal about doing little things. Especially in front of family. For instance he had to move a car seat from one car to another. He went on and on about how while I was speaking to my mother he changed out the carseat and how lucky I am to have him because other husbands apparently don't to can't change out carseats.

I have a habit of getting off track so please excuse me and simply enjoy the ride. When we arrive at the restaurant he will announce that he will stop lecturing me if I promise to change. Change what? I am not certain. I have sat in silence for 30 minutes because there is no point in fighting. Any exchange between us ends in is illogical ranting.

We enter the restaurant which happens to be a buffet. He loves to go to buffets because he can eat as much as he wants while bitching about the quality of the food and the number of fat people in the restaurant. This always makes for good family time after church.

The day progresses and we do some shopping. Later we come home and he is hungry once again. He doesn’t feel like cooking and he doesn’t feel like eating some shit I am going to make –please know I don’t curse for the sake of embellishment, I curse as it is said to me. So he asks me to go to McDonalds. His order is as follows:

2 McRibs
1 Pumpkin Shake

In the event they do not have either the McRib sandwiches or the pumpkin shakes, I am to get a Quarter Pounder for him.

I go to McDonald’s but strangely enough the parking lot is empty and there are signs in all of the windows stating they are temporarily closed. Now I am in a panic because I have no idea what to get him and I know that 40 minutes of verbal abuse will ensue. I left my cell phone at home, so it appears I am SOL. I take my chances and go to Burger King. I order him a Double Whopper w/cheese. I order a cheese burger because for some reason he prefers 2 sandwiches over a sandwich and fries. I ordered a value meal for myself and decide if on the off chance he wanted fries he could have mine. I made the fatal mistake of not order a Coke for him.

I returned home and began plating the food. He walked out into the kitchen and asked why the hell I went to Burger King. I explained McDonald’s was closed. Why then did I not go to Arby’s or Taco Bell. Hmmm…well probably because the last time we got food at Taco Bell he got sick and swore he would never eat there again. As for Arby’s, he claims it’s too expensive and the food isn’t all that great. I put his sandwiches on a plate and tell him he can have my fries. He starts screaming at me that a Double Whopper is not a Quarter Pounder. I ask him what did he expect me to do? If their closed that’s beyond my control. I asked at the end of the day, what’s the difference if he has a Double Whopper, a cheese burger, and my fries (if he cares to do so).

“What’s the difference? What’s the fucking difference you ask? The difference is I don’t have a fucking Coke. Where is my Coke? This is why you are a complete and total bitch to me. This is how I know you don’t give two shits about me at all. If you did, you would have remembered to get me a fucking Coke!”

He then picked up his plate and threw it across the room. “The dog can have that shit now. I’m not hungry.”

For the rest of the evening he did not speak to me. I go to the cabinet and pop double doses of everything I have – I know that’s incredibly stupid but I just want something to make life a little easier to deal with. I want it to happen quickly and I want it to last.

I spend all my free time trying to figure out how I will ever get away from this asshole. He constantly tells to go ahead and leave because he will get the kids. Afterall, I am unemployed and bi-polar. I know there are a lot of stay at home moms who get custody of their children, but he loves to tell anyone who will listen that I’m crazy and on meds.

I am bipolar that’s correct. But I don’t hear voices, there are no pink spotted bunnies in my dining room. I have no criminal history and have never neglected my children. The fact of the matter is, he’s a cop and I don’t trust the son of a bitch as far as I can throw him…

P.S.- Why can't Roy like redheads???????????