I have been avoiding this conversation for a few weeks now, but it is time I man up and end it.
First off, let me say that I have let this relationship go on far too long. You have been lying smack dab in the middle of my laundry space for over a month and a half now. Seeing that Nathan has been out-of-town for a good part of the last two months, I belive I have seen more of you than I have of him. I have two small children, you see, one of which insists of puking up most of what I feed her multiple times a day, so needless to say, I am doing a lot of laundry. Which, in turn, means I see you at least three or four times a day.
You have been keeping me on my toes… I am weary that I may step on you; this has caused me to tiptoe around your body every time I move clothes from the washer to the dryer. I fear that I have tested the limits of fate too long; sooner or later, an errant sock may fall on you on its journey to fluffy-softness. Such an event may force me to dispose of said sock with your corpse clinging to it, and I would hate for it to be one of my daughter’s alpaca baby booties.
Eventually, my vigilance will falter; I will become complacent with your hollow carcass next to my patch of linoleum and I may brush you with the tip of my toe. If the baby happens to be sleeping, I will wake her with my screams. This is not how I want our relationship to end. I literally am the bigger person, yet I cannot bring myself to dispose of you.
Please contact one of your living companions to haul your body off to a deeper corner of the basement.
So what, you try to break it off with me on your blog? Don’t be such a bitch. You could at least had the decency to toss me in the trash yourself. You are a total pansy.
I’m sure I’ll be getting a visit Nathan when he gets back from wherever the hell he is this time. If I could, I would be rolling ALL of my eyes at you right now.
Peace out, bitches!