HUMOR
They Don’t Want Me at Their Wedding; I Have Divorce Cooties
I’m pretty upset about missing out on the soup
“Not now,” I groaned to myself as I noticed the incoming call from Dorothy.
I exhaled loudly and grasped the phone lying beside me on the couch. My head was throbbing after two hours of trying to convince my two-year-old to go to sleep instead of serenading me with ninety-two verses of Hickory Dickory Dock.
It was a rave until things took a dark turn at verse fifty-six.
My thumb swiped at the phone screen, accepting the call.
I swallowed and closed my eyes as I placed the phone to my ear.
“Hi, Doro…. Grandma.”
“It took you a long time to answer,” she barked.
It was four rings, Bellend.
“Yeah, I was trying to get….”
“Never mind with all that,” she said, cutting me off. “I want to talk about Rob and Susanna’s wedding.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, I didn’t know they were getting married.”
“Yes, well, you weren’t invited,” Dorothy said.
Thank fuck for that. Now, I won’t have to fake a medical emergency/raccoon infestation.
