With some disdain and a great deal of steel, she begins again. |
I'm probably going to take a nap. I told M. that it was necessary since I'm feeling slightly hungover from the codeine I took last night. He convinced me to take it so that I wouldn't run the risk of waking up to monumental pain in the event of a lodged gallstone, so I did it, and I had some issues with waking up as a result. The wee one stood by my bedside telling me it was morning, which I knew but chose to ignore, and when I saw that it was only seven a.m., I told her to 'give me a bit'. An hour later, I dragged myself from the bed and down to the kitchen where she was putting a puzzle together while watching Treehouse. I blearily filled the kettle and put her cereal together while wondering how much worse it's going to be when I get old. Then, this afternoon, he pulled the covered pie plate from the back of the bottom shelf in the refrigerator and made a comment about 'pie thieves' in the house. 'What happened to all the pie?', he asked, wide-eyed. 'I don't know,' I said, sheepishly. 'I had one piece!' he laughed. 'So?' I remarked, annoyed. 'So, who ate it all?' 'I don't know!' I insisted, wishing him to go away. 'Well, we know it wasn't Katriona because she said it was too 'appley', whatever that means.' 'Maybe the piece you ate was enormous, then.' 'It wasn't, actually. And why was the pie hidden at the back of the refrigerator?' 'Look,' I sighed, defeated, 'I like pie.' 'I know, but...' 'I am PASSIONATE about PIE!', I yelled. 'It makes me happy, and I ate it, okay? I wanted it, I took it, because I love it, end of story!' 'You're passionate about pie?' he burst out laughing. 'Yes! I had to have it!' I shrieked. 'Okay,' he shook his head, looking at the tiny wedge still left on the plate. 'Guess that explains the pain you were in last night, right?' Passion comes at a price, I guess. So, he ate the last wedge, right in front of me, and he didn't chew slowly or give proper attention to the pastry by letting it roll on his tongue. He went at it like an animal, not caring if it offended me, the way he devoured my passion without tasting it. I watched him devour it and I felt a tinge of hatred. He caught me looking and grinned in self-satisfaction. 'Wanna lick the plate?' he asked with a hint of evil. 'You suck donkey balls,' I said before I huffed and stormed away. I probably need sex or sugar at the moment, both of which have the ability to sate me, but I'll go for the nap instead. I'll dream of pie. Or sex. Or maybe both, together! You probably think I need help, right? |