The ogre has been staying home more often with the gran. He ditched her pretty much every day the first four days she was here. I thought it would stay that way, but he’s been home more. ICK. He has even been playing cards with the gran! The ogre never plays cards or games with anyone. I guess the old lady is getting bored here. I can’t blame her. A bad joke, but I told DH last night I hope she doesn’t win at cards!! -Because in my previous entries I mentioned how DH’s sister won at cards one time years ago while on vacation and gloated about winning. The ogre’s response: Bash her head against the wall a few times. Because you know, that’s a normal reaction when you lose a game. I think the more disturbing part was this apparently happened infront of a few family members. I guess they were all OK with it.
We had a laugh or rather a grimace the other day. The ogre came home with ten trays of chicken pieces – thighs etc. It was evident he was going to try to cook. Which means we are screwed for using the kitchen all day. So the beast makes a couple pots of curry. Then we think, is there another dinner party here? Because, as you know, he never communicates anything with us. We saw something in his day planner about another dinner party on Sunday. (oh joy) As the ogre has filled his fridge to the brim with food that he’ll just let rot anyway, he has no room for the curry. Is it really going to sit out on the stove four days before he serves it to people? Granted he’s had dinner parties where the food has sat out longer than that, but I digress. But nope, it only sat out two days before it was whisked off somewhere last night with him and the grandmother. I imagine it was some family get together.
Now the worry of the day is, is there really going to be a dinner party here again tomorrow? How will we eat today (as he’d be making food ahead of time), how will we eat tomorrow? The ogre will want to confiscate our chairs we use for the dining table again. Will he be asking for them before or after DH has gone to work? Then there is the dread of him knocking on the door when I’m here alone asking that I take them down. And I won’t. DH and I have agreed for my own safety that I am to be no where near him alone. Then what happens if I refuse to bring them down until DH is home? My anxiety level just goes haywire. And this shouldn’t even be an issue at all, but because of the way he is… it IS!