FHB gets cranky without her 8 hours

2AM Sunday morning and the husband is still not home. He is really pushing his luck. Yesterday he was out until 3:30AM and when he finally stumbled in to our rented condo he woke me to tell me a story about some shit-for-brains driving a motorized bicycle in a serpentine fashion all along HWY 98. Thankfully, my husband and his friend were in a cab. The cab driver pulled the man over and waited for the police. Meanwhile my husband suggested to the impaired cyclist that he run off into the sand dunes and sleep it off... huh? Why? So he can evade the law and live to terrorize the highways of Florida another day? Stupid husband!

It is now 3AM. Tom Sawyer better not wake me up with any of his late night cab stories tonight because I will go all Honey Badger on his King-Cobra-Ass. I do have a question for him, though. My husband and his buddy, Dingus Khan, clearly had no plans to step foot on the beach this weekend. So why did Dingus have to hijack one of only four weekends at our beach paradise that my husband has off from his month-long work training in Florida? Yesterday, Dumb and Dumber sat on the sofa all day watching football while the beach lay three yards from their fat asses. Football and trashy woman are fully accessible in Dallas. Female Honey Badger is starting to get pissed.

4:30 AM. They are home. Dingus decides to shower (it is morning after all). He makes a huge racket in the room across from my sleeping 14-month old... was he showering with soaped-up bowling balls?

Husband stumbles in the bedroom reeking of cigarettes and dumpster trash. I ask him where he has been all night/morning. His response was probably the stupidest thing that he's said to me in at least the last three weeks... he says a lot of stupid shit... I loose track of most of it but there are several gems that I make a mental record of and bring up when he needs a good beat down. This will be one of those keepers.

FHB: Where the hell have you been?  It is 4:30 in the morning?

So now imagine that my husband's tongue was stung by 100 bees and the gear that runs his brain-to-mouth-speech has shifted down to one tiny notch above neutral: Baby, baby, baby... you are the only one for me.

FHB: What?

Bee-stung-husband: No, seriously. I talked to so many people tonight... and all these older woman... and you are the only one for me.

FHB: Really? Where you interviewing candidates for my replacement? Am I supposed to be flattered by the fact that you talked to some old-ass-Betty-White chicks and now you realize that I am the one?

Husband: No, not that old... and much better looking. OMG, guess what? We got the same cab driver as last night. How did that happen? Crazy!

FHB (grabs nail file from bedside table): OK, ENOUGH! If you say another word I will stab you in the heart with this nail file. (FHBs can be brutal... I never promised you a bedtime story)

to be continued...