There has been a wooden garden chair out the front of my house since the first weekend in December when DH put the Christmas lights up...
It is really chunky and heavy and doesn't fit through the gate to the garden, so it has to be carried through the house, in one go so as not to mark everything in its now dirty, damp, slimy legged state. I've asked DH to please carry it through pretty much every day since he left it out there..
Today, I came back home and the bloody chair gives me such rage every time I see it, so I thought, fuck it, it can't be that heavy, I'll do it!
- Why has he picked the chunkiest chair we own to do this job, and why not simply a stepladder?! Who f*ing knows!
- Yes, it really is that heavy!
So first, I have to remove a box of rubbish he has placed on the chair which promptly the bottom falls out of due to dampness and goes bloody everywhere. Then I notice an elephant ornament I like is secretly broken in the box so I'm already at quite a heightened level of pissed off-ness.
After I've picked all the rubbish up, I realise the door has blown shut and I've locked myself out.
I manage to get the garden gate open and run the spider gauntlet down the side and slip straight over as I step on the slippery decking.
Into dog shit.
And the back door is locked.
And I've Really hurt my wrist.
And the bloody chair is still out the front!!
I go back to the front door and knock and knock till my 3 year old answers the door.
I carry the chair (with hurt wrist) through my hall, into the kitchen and scrape the whole white wall.
I practically throw it out onto the decking and count to ten.
My wrist is now very swollen and kind of purple.
I have dog shit on my coat.
There is rubbish everywhere.
I've destroyed my kitchen wall.
It's all his fault...
WIBU to kill him?!?!
