Troubles at home

So the wife and I are at odds. We’ve got a neighbor that I don’t like at all, so a few months back I had our sons go over there, enter the neighbor’s household, and whack the step-dad living there. To justify this, I concocted some story about how I was pretty sure that the guy was growing meth in his basement and that his meth lab could explode, and thus it posed a threat to our household security. [Of course, I had made that up, and my sons have found no evidence of any meth lab. But, they did find a bulb syringe and a measuring cup in the kitchen, so really they were just a few test tubes away from making meth. If you really look at it objectively, that is.]

We argued over that mess, the wife and I did, but my sons were able to knock off the step-dad very quickly, and my wife hated the guy, too. She knew he was abusive to his own wife and kids, and whenever she questioned my legitimacy in invading their household, I would just ask her why she hates women and children and wants them to be abused by a tyrant. That would generally shut her up.

But the real trouble came over bringing my kids back home. You see, the neighbor’s household really melted down without the step-dad to hold it together. The water and power were turned off because the bills weren’t being paid, there was too little food left, and my sons needed to stay to make sure the kids who lived there didn’t kill each other as they clashed to be the new household leader.

It’s now been ten months since we last saw my sons, and my wife is growing weak. She keeps on sobbing about how she misses her babies, about how they’re wasting their lives in a hellhole for no good reason, and about how there never was a meth lab.

In any situation where there is doubt, you only have to do two things: look supremely confident and denigrate your skeptics.

So I lambasted my wife for “undermining our sons.” I was all like, “Why do you hate our sons? Why do you want to humiliate them by bringing them home? When did you decide that our sons were so insignificant?”

And she was all like, “Booboody-boo hoo, I miss them, they’re in danger, they aren’t helping anything, they never should have been there.”

And I got all like, “No you didn’t. Silence your pusillanimous apocrypha, vile termagant, and cease vitiating my noble casus belli, bitch.” That shut her up.

But the complications didn’t stop there. Now, the Koreans who live two houses up really ARE making meth, but I don’t have any sons to respond with. Further, household polling shows that my popularity is at an all time nadir. And I’m not getting laid.

Now this. I have insisted that we would not bring our sons home until the neighbor’s household was completely stable and able to support itself peacefully. When my wife asked me how long that would take, I would call her craven for even asking and assert that the boys would be there indefinitely. (See how well it works? Look confident and denigrate skeptics.)

But then she found this note on my desk where I had been scribbling a timetable for bringing my sons home in the next few months. So now she’s accusing me of grandstanding and hypocrisy. And I’m all like, “You wanted your sons home, didn’t you? So just shut up and stop asking questions.”

It’s her arrogance that really bugs me.