Well, hormonal me, threw a major hissy fit. I mean major. We stopped at the store on the way to dinner and I bought the kids and I drinks. Pato goes and grabs a huge bottle of Rum and I was all, oh no, you’re not taking that and drinking it and Thanksgiving dinner. Get a beer, that’s it. One beer. And he wouldn’t. So, I threw a tantrum, stormed out of the store, drove home, threw my car into park, reached down to get my purse, and felt like a box cutter ripped through my thumb. Look at it, I’m missing a huge chunk of skin, bleeding all over. Not one to let an injury interrupt my tantrum, I went into the house, and calmly got out 2 band aids, fixed myself up, and I still have no idea what cut me.
I don’t know what got into me. I was like, I’m not going, I’m not leaving this house, pack up your stuff, get out. All over a bottle of rum. HUH? I’m not exactly a teetotaler when I’m not pregnant. I enjoy the occasional drink. Something just hit me just right. Pato said, you have to at least take the kids to Thanksgiving. I don’t have to do squat. My lord, you people would not have recognized me. Finally I did take the kids, leaving Pato at home.
Kat kept calling him asking him to please come to Thanksgiving. He showed up and we sat on opposite sides of the room from each other. My mom kept saying, Heather, he came, go talk to him. You go talk to him. I’m surprised she didn’t put me in a corner.
Went home, woke up the next morning and pretended like nothing happened.
I probably owe him an apology don’t I?
PS I’ll get pictures up on Monday. I didn’t take many in my theatrical moment that I was having. And I even had my kids all dressed up to take their picture for the Christmas card. Cut my own nose off there.
Popularity: unranked [?]
Link to this page
