Here in New York today we had a little precipitation. I would say 1/4″ at best.
I run a construction company and I will make any excuse to avoid my daily work load. If the wind is blowing 3 MPH it’s a tornado in my mind. If a single rain drop falls from the sky I consider this flash flooding. If it gets above 68 degrees we are in a heat wave and are dealing with a serious drought. If it drops below 32 degrees you might as well move to Alaska as far as I’m concerned.
I hate my job. I will do everything and anything not to show up. But I have a family that depends on me so I have to be a responsible supportive family man. I do what I have to do.
As I mentioned earlier, we had three snow flakes and one drop of hail so naturally I cancelled the days schedule. This meant I was home for the day. I could kick back. Lay in bed. Watch Anderson Cooper and shit. Nah. No such luck. Turns out my wife took the day off from work as well and my boys ironically had the day off from school. This was a recipe for disaster.
So there I was, lying in bed, fruit of the loom undies and all, contemplating if I had made the correct decision. And then I got the text from my wife who was snuggled up besides me. “We are hungry.” I personally would rather receive a text message stating my asshole fell out in Mexico and Dr Jose will be re-installing my rectal cavity over a corona and a plate of nachos.
When it comes to food in my household its eat or be killed. Those are the rules. No exceptions. Only the strongest and hungriest will live to see another day.
My wife installed electric fences around our refrigerator to keep family members from eating her leftovers. The kids and I must walk around the home with collars around our necks whenever we order takeout as we get zapped with 480 volts of electricity if we go near her leftover bow tie rigatoni in a mushroom cream sauce.
So I propped my extremely out of shape hairy physique from my sleeping quarters and jumped right in. I figured if I get up and feed these needy bastards it would buy me some time and I could relax and enjoy the rest of my day off I definitely did not deserve.
I concocted a masterpiece of a breakfast. Eggs, bacon, ham, toast and OJ. Everything was going according to plan. My wife even gave me a sexy sensual look like she would stroke my funny bone. I have to admit, it was exciting.
As these three shits ate their food and dished out steady complaints of how the eggs weren’t runny enough, the toast was burnt, the OJ was warm and the ham tasted like Ajax, I put a safe distance between them and myself. Piece and quiet finally.
As I slept for a minute and enjoyed wet dreams consisting of a ménages a trois with Martha Stewart and Opera, I heard a familiar voice as I slowly awoke. “Dad, Dad we are hungry. What’s for lunch?” Didn’t I just feed these animals?
So again I rose to the occasion and performed my role as a stand up dad and whipped up a lunch and fed these people. Everybody was happy again.
Now it was noon and it was time to crack a beer. Figured this would help and deal with what the remainder of the day had in store for me. A few hours passed and I thought I was home free. Legs were up. Beer in hand. Then it was dinner time. Now my wife gets involved with the dinner menu requests. “Babe can you make roasted duck with a French style glaze sauce? Oh and can you make those potatoes Au Gratin with that creamy lobster sauce? Oh and for a simple little side can you fry up some scallops ($17.99 per half pound) for like an appetizer? You know what you have to do to wet our pallets and get us started!”
Before you knew it I was like a “Celebrity Chef” in my own home mincing onions and chopping carrots like an hibachi like figure on bath salts.
The family had three square meals for the day. Everyone was happy. I figured I did the right thing and hopefully impressed my wife and maybe she would rub my ankle or stroke my calf but that never happened. She consumed her meal and hit me up for $100 so she could go summer clothes shopping for the boys while there’s three feet of snow piling up outside as plow trucks rumble down the roads.
As the day was winding down I began to weigh my options. I should have went to work and made a days pay and avoided being the families personal chef. I also spent $200 on food ingredients and $100 on shorts that most likely will not fit my boys in the month of July.
The sexual vibes with my wife was nothing short of the sinking of the Titanic and I was that poor boy at the end who kept that greedy bitch warm as my ass froze up like a snow cone as I sank to the bottom of the sea while being consumed by hammer head sharks and plankton. This was my exact feeling today.
Needless to say, it was an enjoyable day home with my family and I
honestly wish we could do it more often. Today we laughed and made memories and I wouldn’t want it any other way.