maybe it's just menopause but i am sick to goddamn death of the hubby and son just not registering a single thing i say. Got some prepared food with the intention of taking it to work tomorrow. Go to pack my lunch and what do I find? Christ almighty I TOLD YOU I WAS GOING TO SPLIT THIS UP AND TAKE IT FOR WORK LUNCH! And now i'm making food at 12:30 am because NOBODY FUCKING LISTENS.
I know this is a small thing, this is small potatoes, but Jesus Christ.
Like am i secretly speaking in trombones like Charlie Brown's parents?
It sounds like clear and concise english to me.












