Golf

Do you ever get the feeling that your man likes golf more than you? more than television? more than life itself? I got that feeling today, after I threatened his life, of course. Because I'm planning a get together for his birthday, house full of people, food, cake, etc.... and he calls two hours before the end of my (very hectic and crazy already) day. This is how it goes:

Him: Hey honey? I'm pulling "the birthday card." I need you to pick up the kids because I'm playing golf.

Me: Say what? Honey, c'mon now. I have to leave early as it is to pick up your cake and the food for tonight. You know, the food I'm buying and catering in, so you won't have to feel like the house is a mess... it will get cold.

Him: Well, leave earlier.

Me: I don't think you heard me. The. food. will. be. cold. Shrimp and grits are not tasty when they're rubbery and icy.

Him: You'll figure it out. It's my birthday. Thanks! Love you!

Me: Please don't be late.

Him: Click.