1422. Quite frankly, I’m sick of it

Quite frankly, I’m sick of it, Heidi. I come home from work and the place is a mess. The kids’ rooms are a mess. The kids haven’t even done their homework. The only food to look forward to is precooked stuff out of a package. You just heat it up in the microwave like you don’t care. The dishes don’t get done. The kids eat too much junk.

Then all you do is complain about every little thing. You want a better car. The lawn needs mowing – well, mow it yourself if that’s what you want. You haven’t taken the trash out. You’re not separating trash into recyclables. You don’t take any pride in your appearance any more. You look like an old cow.

Oh yes, Heidi, you have a cold. When don’t you have a cold? Moan moan moan. I cut down your work hours at the factory to only 30 hours a week so you could do some home-making stuff you so desperately wanted and all you do is moan moan moan. Quite frankly, I’m sick of it.

Heidi pulled out a gun and shot him dead. It was premeditated.

11 thoughts on “1422. Quite frankly, I’m sick of it

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