When my mother and my sister have their biannual fight, I’m the one who gets dragged into their bullshit?
Why do I have to be the referee every single time?
I don’t even have to ask what happened anymore.
And THEY already know what I’m going to say.
This shit is old. Like this old.
But for fuck’s sake…
And you know what else?
So if they don’t knock it the hell off, they’re going to learn what my kids already know.
This ain’t a timeout kinda household I’m running.
Because what in the hell am I supposed to do about it anyway?
Anywho…enough about that.
Now I’m off to go and find something relaxing to do.
And daydream about this for a while.