I should first warn you...I really should've written a G version and an R version. The real life version probably registered at a triple R. There was no verbal censor. So make a mental note, Whenever you read the word effing, fricking,freaking, f*cking or anything of the sort, feel free to insert the actual word of FUCKING that flowed from my mouth as freely as a tree swaying in the breeze. You've been warned. Virgin ears and eyes proceed with caution...
I had calmed down and decided to walk over to let TQ know what had just happened.
knock, knock, knock "TQ, I just wanted to let you know what just happened. I was upstairs putting Harper down for a nap when Drake came upstairs, knocked and came into her bedroom..."
TQ: "No he didn't, I was sitting out back, watching them the whole time!"
I think my head spun around 3 or 4 times and right then steam shop out of my ears.
GG: "Are you effing kidding me? Are you telling me I am making this whole freaking thing up?"
TQ: "First of all don't swear at me."
GG: "How can I not swear. You are calling me a fricking liar! Don't you think I have better things to do with myself than make up a freaking story about your son coming into my house and waking my daughter up?"
Her request? DENIED.
TQ: "I am telling you that I was back there watching him...I am in disbelief."
GG: "Obviously you weren't because your son came into my damn house and clearly you didn't know...
Why do you need to argue everything TQ. It's what you do, you argue. My God, is that annoying"
TQ: "Look at you you're hysterical right now...I am in disbelief."
GG: "Well believe it! NEWSFLASH TQ! Your son does do things wrong just like every other kid I have ever met. I just thought I should let you know but clearly you don't believe me. "
TQ: "Drake, Drake! Drake get in here now! "
And I stormed off.
What I really wanted to say at this point was, 'really? you've been out watching them the entire time? Because I am standing in your doorway now and um, where is your son...you stupid beotch!'
I was on fire! I went over to let her know about something her son had done that I thought she might want to talk to him about. It was something that I would absolutely want to know about if my son did. But she didn't believe me. I am many things but one thing that I am not is a liar.
I came in my house and Mike came in to get the story since all he could see from on top of the roof was my arms flailing. As I told him what had happened I began to feel sorry. I was not at all sorry for what I said, but for the way I acted. I acted like she does.
Just then, the phone rang. It was her...