Really !!??!??

.

Not only can he not keep his greasy hands away from his food, but he must scratch his eyeball too?

.

.

He KNOWS that he is seriously testing the limits of my self-control.

Isnt’ that what marriage does to us at times?  Though I suspect that my marital testing is rather singular.  I take no pride in that.

In fact, I feel very, very alone.  I mean, how many other women have to suffer sewage in food containers?

I am so, so alone.

I know him well enough to know this  —— Sid is smiling while he takes that bite.  He tries to hide it by not looking at me, but I saw the twinkle in his eyes.

.

.

It’s like a train wreck.  I can’t look away.

Though I really, really want to.

And to forget I ever saw this.

.

.

Yep, he is playing me —hands cradling the face of my beautiful child that I labored to bring into this world and have labored to raise.

.

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Don’t worry.  I will get him back, this Creator of my Angst.

.

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PS   For clarification . . . . .Sid washed his hands before he made a tortilla wrap and man-handled our child.  The grease on his hands is what was left after much scrubbing (he assures me).   There was no evidence of grease on my dear child’s skin.  I couldn’t verify the tortilla wrap since he ate it.  He was absolutely forbidden to touch me until he found a way to get completely cleaned up.  Still, I would have preferred that he eat with a fork and not touch our children.  Let there be no doubt —– the man was testing me.

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