Mega Winge

I spent most of the weekend totally infuriated with Greg. God he gives me the sh*ts sometimes.

We had a dinner date arranged with Mum on Saturday evening but my brother came and whisked Greg away to the resort hours earlier (leaving me to get everything organized as per usual) so by the time we all met up for dinner they were both sloshed. In between great platefuls of food my little brother spent his time competing with Izzy in who could make the smallest paper aeroplane and who could hunt out the biggest toad from the garden bed and kick it further into the ocean, that said he behaved himself exceptionally better than Greg, who was staggering and slurring and showing off and fumbling (the baby!!)

Sometimes I think there’s a lot to be said for settling down with a more mature man, not one that’s six years younger than you and prone to bouts of alcohol induced adolescence.

Greg dodged a big earbashing from me and got a lift with Mum instead, I beat them home and was putting Anakin down when he snuck in to grab his shoes, they’d talked Mum into taking them back down to the resort so they could pick up where they had left off. Izzy lectured him for me: “Mum’s going to be so mad at you! She’ll make you sleep in the hammock!” Greg reckons “I like the hammock!” What a sh*t! It’s not a one off either, he’s drunk and embarrassing a lot!

I had friends and their kids arrive late at night. Nice, normal, sober ones. So after the kids went to bed we stayed up looking at photos and having cuppas. Luckily for Greg they put me in a more acceptable mood so when he did eventually arrive I didn’t throw him and all his work clothes back out the door again. He got ignored until he lay down on the lino’ and started swearing in his sleep.(Greg’s like one of those dolls that automatically shut their eyes when you tip their heads back. I swear he’s missing a brainwave cycle – one second he’s wide awake and having a conversation then he closes his eyes, convulses a few times and he’s fast asleep, dreaming.)

God he’s annoying. All the time. I hollered choice words at him this morning from bed as he got ready for work (I didn’t even see him but I abused him anyway.) He gets up to do this long stretching routine every morning, that, coupled with his weights routine in the arvie leaves him next to no time to do anything that would actually be helpful in any way!! Plus he’d probably be in fine form if he gave his liver a break and just laid off the alchy! I told him “I’m sick of living with you!” “Take all your sh*t and go somewhere else!”

You know, poor Izzy had a migraine headache for the first time in his life last night and spewed all over his bedroom floor. All Greg could say was “Make him clean it up!” That’s so mean! (I think he realized how mean it was though coz he got straight out of the shower and cleaned it up himself!)

And little Bubby has the snottygobbles for the first time. I’m having to chase him around with a washer all the time to clean his face up – other than that he doesn’t care, it hasn’t really phased him at all. I’ll feed him up on green coconut milk and he’ll be fine.Anyway I’m sick of all this whinging. I’ll come back when I’ve got something better to say!