Bleh~

I took supper to Dickidoo this afternoon.  Rocky asked me why.  I had no good reason.
"You're such a wife," my youngest daughter accused.  It's weird that I felt I had to defend myself and yet there was no defense.  I am such a fricken wife!
So I decided that I should be a disgruntled fricken wife.  I walked into his bedroom, which until 2 years ago used to be our bedroom~ and I left a calling card.  A pinto bean and 3 chili salsa calling card.  I only hope he gets home before the potency drifts away through the ventilation system.  I have no real confidence in it though.  I have always been a potent but sissy farter.
Seriously though I have had to make an extra effort to wean myself from my future-ex-husband.  I miss talking to him.  I miss joking with him. I miss sitting in silence beside him. I find myself talking myself out of impulses.  I applaud those I deny.  I mourn the ones I succumb to.  Baby steps I tell myself, my nice self.
Is it wrong to want to baby step up his butt?  My not so nice self thinks not.
Just a thought~