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    It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine

    September 27, 2006

    Actually it’s the end of the world as I know it.  I find that people often misuse the “we” phrase.  Like, say, the buyer’s real estate agent tonight at the closing.

    AH:  (in the elevator from the garage) If I could guess, I would guess we have a closing today and you are the seller.
    K:  And I would guess (based on your slimy appearance and apparent lack of a soul) that you are the buyer’s real estate agent.
    AH:  And what’s our name?  (to Ethan)
    K:  Our name is Ethan.

    Because WE clearly had not been tortured enough by his mere presence, let alone having to converse with him, he continued his assault.

    AH:  Well, did we fix the little problem in the condo?
    D:  What problem? (ever the smart ass)
    K:  Yes.  (more like a growl)
    AH:  What did we find?  Did we need to change the flapper, or did we need to change the valve?
    K:  We (being two of us–three if you count The Boy throwing a pipe wrench into the toilet tank) fixed it.  You didn’t go by today to check it out? (read–you lazy ass bastard who has tormented me for the last three weeks–I hope you get run over by a bus on the way out of here today)
    AH:  No.  What did we fix?
    D:  Well, we didn’t fix it at first because nothing is wrong with it.  Then we just replaced the whole thing because we weren’t sure what YOU thought was wrong with it.

    Only Derek can say something like that and get away with it.  I almost burst into laughter. 

    Then the buyers showed up with 3 kids under the age of five.  And I would just like to say that as much disrespect a stay at home mother may get, you had better thank your lucky stars that you are not a stay at home dad.  And then have two girls and a boy.  Who treat you like you are a bitch.  Apparently Dad forgot to bring the right power cord so the girls couldn’t watch a movie during the closing.  So instead, they proceeded to get into a cat fight that would rival a WWF match.  Complete with hair pulling and name calling, which included calling Mom “you stupid mom.”  Mom yelled back and they ignored her.  The Boy clung to me in fear which I found fascinating.  I yell at him all the time but apparently another mom’s screeching was not as tolerable.  Dad seemed, dare I say it, impotent?  The kids then attacked the overflowing candy dish in the middle of the table despite being told to they could only have one.  Mom pryed open their little mouths and yanked the candy from the caverns of their mouths.  She did all this while feeding baby boy the boo and signing on the dotted line. 

    As I left, the buyers and their creepy real estate agent were still bemoaning that there was no receipt for the electrical work on the thermostat for the convector.  I asked yet again if they had turned it on and of course they hadn’t.  The stay at home dad said that we couldn’t have fixed it ourselves because it was an electrical problem. 

    Crickets.

    And you can’t be a stay at home dad because dads go to work.  I don’t know what to tell you.  All this as his offspring were jumping on and off the chairs, throwing crayons. 

    Had I not already been pregnant, I would have rushed home to take a handful of birth control pills which I would have then chased with a pitcher of red ruby martinis.  Derek is still shell-shocked.  He requested that we spend the rest of the evening not speaking.  And said he should be entitled to $250 for all the things he fixed in the condo.  I told him that I did the work too and he said that I had 4 years to fix the electrical problem and I waited until I was pregnant to get someone else to do it.  I wish I had left the power on when he was rewiring.

    All that drama to find out that I don’t get any money for 2 days.  They can occupy the bastion of my singlehood tonight, but I don’t get a dime until Friday.  Somehow I was thinking that a check would make me feel better about the fact that the last of my “separateness” was officially gone and that all was left of me had become “marital property.”  

    Maybe I’ll feel better on Friday.

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