An Un-Love Letter

Dear Boyfriend,

We need to clear something up, in case there was ever any misunderstanding - there is NOT a house-cleaning, laundry-doing, dish-washing, vacuuming, toilet-cleaning fairy. If there were one, who do you think it would be? That's right, Me. Your mother may be glad to slave over a hot stove for her one and only son and then faithfully pick up and clean the dishes, then pick up your clothes off of the dining room table because you were too lazy to take five more steps to the bedroom, then wipe your hair bits out of the sink, and then take out the trash that has been fermenting outside the front door for TWO DAYS waiting for you to pick it up and drop it into the dumpster on the other side of the building. Like I said - not your mother. I DO this stuff, but I am not GLAD to do it. In fact, I do it only because if I did not do it, we would be living in what my father calls a "pig sty."

This would not bother me so much if I was not working and you were. But as it is, this week is raining, which means you get free time. Lots of it. I have not had free time since my vacation in June. I work 7:30-6:00. I come home and clean up after you, and what is left? Certainly not time. You worked 8-12. Then went to lunch with your buddies. Then pissed around on the internet for who knows how long. Then went to your mother's house because you were too lazy to cook for yourself. Then came home half an hour after me and pissed around on the computer some more WHILE I SCRUBBED THE BATHROOM.

The moral of the story is this: Get off your lazy ass and help me. Yes, you are cute, and yes, I do love you, but I did not sign up to have a twenty-something year old son. If you have any questions or concerns, please keep them to yourself, because I am too busy to deal with it.

Love,
Cassidy