It was a bad one tonight. She got pretty hammered and was obnoxious to the kids. Mostly she sat there, drunk on the couch with this snotty “I know better than you” look on her face and bitched at the kids about school, their homework and anything else she could think of. Fortunately, she passed out early. If that had been the end of things, it would have been more or less okay.
But she lay in bed, moaning and swearing. Then she started yelling that she was done, done with us, done with the kids, done with her job, and done with her parents. Then she actually got up and started yelling about the kids still being awake. It was 9:45 on a Friday night and they were watching Monk with me – a show she usually allows them to watch with no problem. So I got up and told her the kids were watching TV with me and would go to bed when this show was over and she should go back to bed and pass out again. So she started yelling at me and demanded a divorce. I told her she was being a drunken asshole and to just go back to sleep. The kids went upstairs, so I went up with them and put them to bed.
The next morning when she woke up, I tore into her. I told her that her behavior was absolutely unacceptable. That being a drunken nag was not a substitute for being a mother or a wife. That if I caught her drinking again, I was packing her stuff and throwing her out and I would deal with her parents about it afterwards. I didn’t want to hear any excuses, no ‘bad days at work’, no ‘girl’s night out’, no Happy Hours, no nothing. That she hadn’t made any attempt to quit drinking since we came back from North Carolina a year and a half ago and I was done with her drunken bullshit. If she brings home a bottle, or I smell booze on her, or she acts like a drunken bitch, I am packing her up and throwing her stuff in the driveway. I told her I loved her and I wanted her there as my wife but if that isn’t what she wants or if she can’t do that, then we are done.
I am writing this on Sunday night. The weekend has been pretty good. But I am afraid that tomorrow will be our last. I have no reason to believe that she will not pick up a bottle on the way home from work, no matter what I have said about it. And I am going to follow through on my promise to her. I have to.
