Listen, Irene. If I was just playing him, do you think I’d be out here in this walking the dogs? Jesus! If I were just playing, I’d be trailer trashing south for Arizona instead of here in winter walking his goddamned dogs.
I made a commitment on him—even if he is tardy on that himself. And all I get is you brouhahaing on me for his lack of attention to my attentions.
You think I like walking the goddamned dogs. In weather that would kill a normal human being? I only walk them because if I didn’t he’d think I was just a passing phase in his very confused and blumfredder life. And likely there’d be shit on the livingroom rug and dog piss in the pantry. I seen this place before.
So don’t go all accusing on me, Irene. Except for the dogs, he’s a great human being. And I don’t mind the dogs except they need walking in December when its #*($ below freezing and wind is hurricane cold.
I got this, Irene. Dogs, washing dishes, his awful coffee and all. I got this.
Home of Have, Poems by Lee Robison 
How I would have enjoyed saying something like this to my MIL. Happy ending though, we did finally figure out how to get along. After all, we loved the same guy 🙂
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I love her for walking the dogs even though it’s way down her list of things she would really like to do. Back off Irene. “Blumfredder” an altogether brilliant word.
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