Thrown under a bus

Ok, so that you will understand?

I am going to reproduce here a conversation I had with Mark yesterday while the girls were still at school.

Here’s me . . .

“Geez, I wish we hadn’t promised the girls we would go to that fundraiser picnic at the school this evening.  I am just so not in the mood to do that.”

Mark looks up, “We could cancel.  I don’t really want to go either.”

“Really?  The girls will be all kinds of pissed off if we cancel.  They’ll be screaming about how we promised we would go, and how all of their friends are going, and how we are the worst parents in the whole world. I’m not sure I want to deal with that.”

Mark sighs, “Well, it’s up to you.  I can deal with the tantrums if you can.  I don’t really want to go to this picnic.  You decide.”

I think for a minute, “OK, yes . . . let’s cancel.  I know the girls will be mad, but I just don’t want to go.”

Mark is all agreement, “OK, fine.  Good.  I have some stuff I have to get done, anyway.”

“OK, but babe?  They are going to be really pissed off, so I want to be sure we’re on the same page.  We’re not going. Same page.  You and me . . . in complete agreement.”

“Yeah, I told you I didn’t want to go.”

“OK, good.”

And then there pass a happy few hours in which I glory in the loveliness of being married to this man.  Mark is all awesome, what with the listening and the communication and the agreement on a plan.  Seriously, I am so fucking lucky to be married to this man.  Happy sighs.

And then the girls come home.

All excited about the picnic.

So Mark and I sit them down and explain that there has been a change in plans.

And then there is gnashing of teeth and rending of garments and flashing of angry eyes.

And there are big rolling crocodile tears of tragedy and incredulity.

And there are screams of the YOU PROMISED WE COULD GO! and ALL OUR FRIENDS ARE GOING! and YOU GUYS ARE THE WORST PARENTS IN THE WORLD! sort.

But Mark and I stand strong.  Because we are in this thing together.

Love this man.

And then, as the girls scream and rage and stomp about the room?

I hear these words from my beloved, “Well, maybe we should talk about this.  It seems like this is really important to the girls, and they are making some good arguments.”

It is a good thing that my thoughts are not reality, because people?

In that instant, I think how lovely it would be for Mark to be thrown from the top of a very tall building.

I glare at him, “No.  We talked about this.  We are not going.  End of story.”

But even as I say these words?  I know I have lost the battle, because the girls are all over Mark with sweet adoring pleas and loving embraces.

All three of them, in my imagination . . . tossed from a skyscraper.

I fucking hate when Mark does this shit.

I am so pissed that I decide to put an end to this crap, “Listen, Mark?  Girls?  We said we were not going, and I am not going.  Seriously.  Not . . . going. I am walking away.  This is the end of this conversation.”

And then I leave the room.

And then the three of them?

They pack a fucking picnic for three and start heading out the door.

And I hear Mark say, “Your mom doesn’t have to come.  She doesn’t feel like going to the picnic.  We can have fun without her.”

Yeah?  Fuck you too, babe.

And then Maj and Kallan are sent to talk to me.  All fake-ass and annoying.

Maj first, with fluttery beseeching eyelashes, “We want you to come, Mom.  It will be more fun if you come.”

And Kallan throws her arms around me dramatically, “Pretty please?  Please come . . . it will be fun.”

When I stare at them stonily, they turn happily and race back up to Mark.

“She’s not coming, Dad.  Come on!  Let’s go!”

And then they left.

They so did.

So fucking annoying.

This morning?

Mark tells me I am stubborn.

But I say?

Mark’s a dumb-ass.

Sometimes.