Diaries Magazine

FFS!? Friday : Sweeping It Under the Rug

By Parentalparody @parental_parody

FFS!? Friday : Sweeping it under the rug

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Mstr5 has long proclaimed his undying love for me.  No FFS!? Multiple times a day I am told I am beautiful.  No FFS!? Multiple times a day he is told he will get all of the things when my time comes. He frequently requests my hand in marriage.  No FFS!? I frequently shower him with the cookies with the largest ratio of choc chips to biscuit. It is a sweet little thing we have going, and I relish it every single day. Because one day he will grow up to realize that these declarations are not entirely accurate or possible. And one day he'll be totally grossed out by ever declaring me to be beautiful, let alone asking me to marry him. So, for now, I love this thing with my sweet little guy.  It is mutually beneficial.  A win-win scenario whereby I get the loving child (one out of three is only fair, right?) and he gets the biggest inheritance and the most chocolate. Recently, our loving relationship was shattered when he declared his love for another. Another who also resides in our house and is with us every single day. I am devastated. Not only at his lack of loyalty, but also at his choices. Last week, Mstr5 informed me in an off-handed and callous manner that he was now marrying the broom, and I was in fact fired.  FFS!? That sneaky minx, hiding away in the laundry cupboard, swishing about in front of him every day.  FFS!? What up with losing to an unattractive, boring inanimate object like a bloody broom?  FFS!? I could understand if it was a person, the iPad or the TV. But the broom?  FFS!? I'm trying to keep it together for the sake of the family. It's tough. Every time I see the broom I want to snap it. Every time he goes into the laundry I want to follow and make sure he's not whispering declarations of love to the broom that used to be reserved for me, under the guise of going to the toilet.  FFS!?
For now, I will hide my disappointment and sweep my feelings under the rug. Metaphorically, obviously, because I am never touching that broom ever again.

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