Wifey-Hen.

Excuse me while I step out of my skin for a moment. I promise to step back into it promptly tomorrow morning.

{I promise that most of the time I am like the picture above}

Yesterday evening, I had the “pleasure” of accompanying hubs to a “meeting”. The reason was to ensure that he did not high-five anyone’s face.

Without getting into too much detail about the issue because Mr. Sean won’t be happy, lets just say that the entire situation is bull-crap. Complete bull-crap.

Anyway, the meeting is going on and these two pricks individuals are getting loud with Sean. They are interrupting him and not letting him speak. I am pretending to read blogs but my blood is boiling. And my hands are twitching for fist on face action. And my feet are tapping. And well my tongue wants to say something. I keep it in. For 15 minutes.

And then monster Faith comes out full force.

I mean, she literally jumps out of her skin and attacks.

The first thing that comes out of my mouth, “You are so lucky I’m not wearing stilettos because if I were it would have accidentally come off of my feet and made contact with your head.”

I was then told that it was none of my business.

And I went insane. None of my business. Seriously? I am here instead of at home watching Dawson’s Creek and it is none of my business. I can promise you that they will never tell that to another person’s wife again.

Let’s just say the F bomb was used a few times. Which isn’t very nice. But what-evs.

When we left Sean kissed me and said, “Don’t mess with the wifey-hen.”

And seriously don’t.