Ass Burger Boy reads my blog. I made the mistake of getting him to read an entry to see if he thought it was funny, and he laughed.
I have a confession to make. Every once in a while, just to mess with his head, I install the toilet paper roll opposite to the way I usually do.
Ass Burger Boy has Asperger’s Syndrome if you didn’t already figure that out. Of course you did. You’re smart.
ABB also has OCD. I know. I cannot fathom how anyone with OCD can sleep in a room that I fondly call the toxic waste dump, but he is only OC about some things. Cleaning and organizing his room? Not so much.
The last two days, the roll has. not. been. how. it. should. be. I’ve been waiting to see how long before he changes it back. He always does. But now that he reads my blog, he remembers the entry about Skinny Bitch and how I like to move something ever so slightly from it’s rightful place on her coffee table, just to mess with her.
ABB came out of the bathroom a few minutes ago and he asks me straight out.
“Do you change the way you install the toilet paper to mess with me like you do with Skinny Bitch?”
Since I agonized over the whole Santa Claus thing when he was a kid, lying is so not an option. I didn’t want him to have a list of “Lies my mother told me” to hold against me. And really? My memory isn’t good enough for me to be a liar.
I can be diplomatic, but diplomacy is pushed away by an evil grin. I confess.
“Well, Mommy dearest, (ouch) Skinny Bitch wouldn’t say anything to you. I am and I don’t want you to do it anymore.”
Me: “But I’m old and I don’t get out much.”
It’s no fun anyway now that he knows I was doing it to mess with him.
Shameless self-promotion: Show me some freaking love. Go on, vote. You know you wanna. You have to register first, but you will make me very happy. Check your junk mail folder for the registration confirmation.
Cool blog though BTW.
