The Argument

         All arguments are stupid. But then, all men are not smart! They think with that thing between their legs and not with their heads. All he had to do was pick her up and drive her to the doctor’s office. Him and his brother got involved in a ball game, he forgot. Then I find out it was a skin flick. My mother misses her appointment because he wanted to rub is thing. ' Shit, he’s home.'

          “Carla, baby, I’m home.” I can hear him slam the screen door, always slams that damn door. “Baby Cakes, where are you?” Let him find me; screw him.

         I move into the bathroom and start to unload the hamper into a net laundry bag. I can hear him moving through the rooms toward the back door. “Baa-Bee… Where are you…?” My back is to the door and I’m bent over. I know what’s coming; his hand goes up my skirt and flat against my crotch. “Oh, you’re bare assed, Hi Hun, you miss me?” His fingers are doing a dance in my nether region.

         Twisting around to break his grip, “I worked all week and you were off. If you did the wash when I told you, I’d have underwear.” I push him into the wall as I carry the bag back to the laundry room. “And stop grabbing my fucking ass.”

         I hear him go into the kitchen and open the refrigerator. As I load the washing machine he appears at the door with two bottles, “Want a beer?” I look over at him.

         I only drink beer three times a year! “NO! I DON”T!” Adding the detergent and bleach, I start the wash and again have to push him out of the way.

          “Where’re the kids?” He follows me into the living room carrying the two open bottles. I’m pissed at him and he knows it.

         Old magazines, newspapers and other assorted junk clutter the coffee table. He plops down on the couch as I start to clean up. “What’s the matter with you, what did I do?” There’s and arrogance in his voice. As I go to pick up a newspaper, he puts one of the beers down on it and it spills.

          “SHIT! You’re an Ass Hole!” He manages to grab the paper fast enough to confine the entire mess to my wastepaper basket.

          “You want to know what I’m mad about?” I grab a dishtowel and wipe my hands. “First, I’m bare assed because you were too lazy to do the wash on Thursday; when I told you to.” I’m advancing on him and ringing my hands in the towel. “Now it’s Saturday, my day to sleep late. The boys woke me up to make lunch for them to go to batting practice. You forgot to take mom to the doctor this morning. Instead, I find you went over to your fucked up brothers house to jerk off to skin flicks.”

         The stench of beer is overwhelming; I turn to leave the room with the trashcan. “I don’t give you enough tail, you gotta go and…? You’re an idiot!”

         He calls after me, “I’m going back to work Monday, Vito called to say the strikes over.”

          “Fine, That’s Just Great!” I’m so angry I toss the garbage and trashcan out together into the garbage bin behind the house. “You stay home from work because of that dumb strike. Hang around this house every day for a month and do almost nothing. That was a fucking vacation…”

         He interrupts with, “Your mother called…”

         I interrupt him with. “Hope she burned your ass!”

          “…last night after you fell asleep.”

          “What…?”

         His voice is raised and firm. “She told me she switched her appointment to this afternoon.” I watched him take a long swig of his beer.

          “So what was with me cooking for you all this week, and the wash on Thursday?” He started to walk towards me slowly. “You know that you been screwing with me all month.”

         We’re face to face; I can smell his beer breath. “I’m a man, with a bad memory and bad habits. But I love you!”

         Poking him in his big beer belly. “Then why do you treat me so fucking bad.” He slips his arms around me and pulls me tight against him.

          “I don’t mean to!” He’s nibbling at my lip.

         I raise one leg between his, pressing my thigh against his aroused timber. I can feel him playing with my ass and nuzzling my neck. He’s being successful at throwing water on my anger.

         Grabbing my butt cheeks with both hands, he lifts me off the floor. I wrap my arms and legs around him; he’s doing interesting things with his fingertips as we begin to move into the bedroom. I warn him. “The kids will be home in fifteen minutes!”

         Letting go of my ass, I let go of him and flop on to the bed; my skirt crumpled up around my waist.

          “Fifteen minutes…? I can do anything in fifteen minutes.” He begins to pull down his zipper.

          “Ok, what time is my mother’s doctor appointment?” He looks up at the clock radio. His eyes go wide and he quickly zips back up, turns and starts for the door.

          “Don’t worry, she’ll be there on time.”

         I think to myself, ‘But he’s my dummy!’