Every single time, it's something different -- and like the prize idiot I am, I always relent, tell her it's okay, and be a loving and supportive husband.
But I swear, my patience is quickly coming to an end.
First, they made sense... well, as much sense as anything, I suppose. She'd be out all night and come home with stories about... well, the usual thing women say when they're having an affair. He's so much more powerful than you! Yeah, as if omnipotent power is everything.
Then it was the bull. I raised an eyebrow at that one, I tell ya. And when she got pregnant to boot... well, let me tell you: there were some highly nervous people in that delivery room, because no one had any idea what was coming out. Turns out we all had good reason to be scared, but that's another story, I suppose. Bottom line: yeah, it looked like she did indeed take a roll in the hay with a bull, and that's an image I really did not need.
Then, maybe because the bull story playd so well, it got seriously delusional. A swan. A cloud. A shower of gold coins. I was really starting to question my own sanity for staying in this marriage, but I told myself we made our vows and at least one of us was gonna stick by them.
And every time, just like clockwork, she got pregnant. You might ask what sort of offspring comes from a woman and a shower of coins. Dont.
So she'd pop them out, and I'd be expected to take care of them. And yes, you could say I was a little resentful about that. Not my kids, after all. I dont care if they did emerge fully grown and ready to leave the hospital and go into the work force. They werent my kids. Oh sure, she loved them all. Every single one.
Yeah, as if...
So I dont even bother coming home anymore. No point. I dont need to hear her latest escapade with her "diety" friends. The last one is truly, truly the best: not only is he supposedly invisible and she, as usual, pregnant, but he (whoever he is) made sure when he was finished, she was a virgin. Whispered some sweet nothing in her ear about how important it was.
Sure it is, Bucky.
Damn pervs.
