...home sweet hell

After traveling 55 mph for 2.5 hours because my vehicle decided to get stuck in 3rd gear, I could not help but to run to our kitchen door upon our arrival home. The SBF and I had gone from laughing uncontrollably to cursing each other out under our breath. It was bound to happen. You put a family of five in a car for 8 hrs and all of the ugliness starts to show. The real ugly. He wanted me to apologize for saying he was acting like Miss B. I wanted him to lick the crack of my ass. Funny how marriage can go from good to bad in a matter of seconds. Just Monday, we were sitting on the beach and laughing. Today, I contemplated staking him like a vampire on True Blood. Only because I love him so much am I able to feel comfortable with such violent thoughts.

Having all girls means that I am stuck on bathroom duty and it sucks ass royally. I don't know how many times I have had to threaten "If you touch something in this bathroom, you hands will rot off. So every time someone has to piss or shit, I am responsible for dragging them into sketchy bathrooms. The last stop was an emergency because Miss B announced she had "die-a-rhea". I run to a bathroom while holding her heavy ass and pleading "try to hold it for mommy" and praying "Dear God, please don't let her shit on me...not today....not on my twerk tank top". I knock on the door and a woman comes out immediately. Startled, I say thank you thinking she must sense the urgency. This bitch had the nerve to say "I don't know why you are thanking me. I am just using the bathroom." I was completely shocked. As I stood over Miss B listening to her once again give me a play by play of what she was dropping in the toilet, I was fighting back the tears. I wanted to go beat the hell out of this lady. I wanted to literally shake the shit out of her. I wanted a slap off contest with this cold heartless bitch that did not sense a mommy on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. Did she know how many bathrooms I have had to carry a kid in? How many times I have had to say the hell with it and take my daughters into the men's restroom? In 20 seconds, I had cursed her entire family (past, present, and future). I admit I was searching for her evil ass when we left the bathroom. I wanted to take my "thank you" back. Luckily, I did not find her.

So, we arrive home. Immediately, the girls want to watch TV and we realize that will be the best entertainment to keep them busy while we unpacked. Holy hell.........you have got to be f______g kidding me? What is wrong with the television? After trying to break the remote and a couple of cable boxes, DIRECTV informed me that something happened to a box in my house that will not allow the satellite to send a signal. The lady then informed me that the first date they could get someone out would be July 15th. Now here is where I lost my shit a little. Life flashed before my eyes. 10 days with no TV...no way, no how, not today or any day. I don't let my children veg out in front of the television, but when I need to take a piss the TV helps. I tried to calmly explain that we


had just returned from a rainy vacation and that my sanity depended upon my children being able to watch TV. I ignored the awkward silence that followed. I then went on to tell her about my car trouble. Of course Miss B walks in and asks me "When will you fix the TV mommy?" at which time I yell "I'm trying to. I can't do everything. Mommy does not know magic." I hear more silence and then I hear "Ma'am, do you want to go ahead and schedule a visit for the 15th?". By now the tears are falling and I don't give a shit. I manage to get out a "yes" and asked that she put us on an emergency list in case someone should cancel. I hang up the phone and sit in the middle of the floor. The SBF was out grocery shopping and I'm in the floor crying over not having live TV. I'm crying because he's out grocery shopping and I'm in hell. How dare he? He should be here? Selfish SOB...giggle. Thankfully, the Davis Divas do have access to recorded shows and that's it. 

As I wipe my face and head to the other side of the house, my middle child, comes up to me with a card. My heart melts. Shit...she's so sweet and pure and innocent. Her mom, dad, and sisters are crazy as hell and she accepts us and still loves us. She is the most thoughtful one out of the group. She always says "please" and "thank you". She is known for giving random strangers compliments. Her soul is so pure. I hug the hell out of her and try my best to look like I have it together. She takes on so much and aims to please everyone. I can't let this be her burden to carry. She loves to get money in cards just like her mama and that makes me giggle. I hug her again and make a silent vow to kill anyone that ever hurts her.

The SBF arrives home with the groceries and tries to make light of the television situation. At this point, I am on a roll of I don't give a shit, damn all of y'all, kiss my ass, I quit, and even I want my mama!!! Yep, the gates of hell hath opened up. The sad part is I did the majority of this "bat shit crazy" behavior in hiding. I remember a couple of times when my mom fully lost her shit and some of those times did scar me for life. So, I summoned myself to the closet. I finally manage to get myself together and climb into my bed. Miss B crawls up and decides to ask me for the 100th time "When are you going to get another toe?"....REALLY!!! RIGHT NOW!!! THE SBF walks into the bedroom and she asks him "Are we brown or black?" Holy hell...is she trying to send me off into the abyss?? I start reciting scriptures in my head...the few I know by heart. I even tell myself "you is kind. you is smart. you is important." Nothing is working. The SBF decides to sit next to me and loudly crunch on his salad. Normally, I would be able to ignore the noise coming from his direction, but my senses are heightened. I giggle to myself at the thought of knocking the salad out of his hand. How many damn croutons did he put on his salad? When will the madness ends? He picks up a book from his nightstand and starts f_____g talking to me:

SBF: Ha!! Look at this.
ME: (dear God make him be silent)
SBF: Look what chapter I am on...Beatitude: Lucky are the unlucky.
ME: (dear God forgive me, but I can't do devotional time with him right now.)
SBF: This is not a coincidence.
ME: (why don't you replace that "L" with and "F"...OMG, what is wrong with me. I'm going to hell!)

I muster up enough strength to roll over and stare at the wall. I don't want him to see the red beams that are coming out of my eyes right now. The beams that want to set the book he is holding on fire. And I realize it's that time...."burn party". It is time for me to take my issues to the fire pit on our patio. Judge me if you want, but it is very therapeutic to burn some shit....giggle. Ask my friends, we have had a couple of "burn parties" that involved an ex's t-shirt. I laugh with excitement of what I will toss into the pit. Maybe the beach toys, maybe the atlas, maybe the DIRECTV remotes, maybe my owner's manual to my car...right now my options are endless.