His humor, it isn’t my humor. When I call to speak to another, that is anyone but him; he likes to play, “they’re not here. I’m not handing over the phone. I can do whatever I want and if you don’t like it I’ll hang up. If I don’t get my own way I’ll pout and behave like a complete grouch for the next three days.” I hate calling the house when I know he’s there. If I’m calling, it’s because I’m at work. That would mean I don’t have time to fuck around on the phone, so when I ask to speak to my minor child, put said child on the fucking phone and shut the hell up asshole!
Oh, I feel better now.
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