Vanilla?

Dear darling husband,

I am mega pissed at you right now. I don't know if I have reached the end of your understanding or what. You acted like a major ass last night. Who the hell wants vanilla ice cream when they feel like they've been scraped off the bottom of a shoe (in both the emotional and physical sense)? I'll give you a hint - NOT ME. You know this and yet when you FINALLY went to the store for me (after making me cry) you acted in a passive aggressive manner by bring home vanilla ice cream - What the fuck? Why can't you just argue like a normal person? It was lovely that you remembered the bananas for the kids, the episome salts because every fiber in my body HURT, and it was even lovely that you bought me halls defense vitamin c lozenges but vanilla? VANILLA? VANILLA fucking ice cream? We don't even have any rainbow sprinkles or caramel to cover it's plain vanilla crappiness. I know I've been putting you through the ringer with my anger and my weird don't touch me but let me touch you clinginess... Stop being so fucking passive aggressive. You know me - I would way rather have an actual argument than think that the CIA is paying you to drive me nuts slowly by doing stuff like bringing vanilla ice cream home... That is all for the moment.. Oh wait

ps if you don't get home before 7 pm tonight I will be force to hire someone to work on our house.. Just think baby money out the window, money out the window. Is that passive aggressive enough for you? I think I can learn to play your game, fucker.

oh and just because i feel like adding it: Here is Tessa while we were painting the other day. Let us say it in chorus "AWWWWWWWW"