Shamrock to my dear Daughter-in-law I gave you my amazing Son St Patrick’s Day shirt, hoodie, tank top, sweater and long sleeve t-shirt
She should’ve just gotten her own biscuit when my mom offered, but she always did crap like that. I took that biscuit and put it in the Shamrock to my dear Daughter-in-law I gave you my amazing Son St Patrick’s Day shirt so you should to go to store and get this microwave for 3 minutes. It was so hot, I couldn’t even take it out the microwave for another minute. This gave it time to sit and become so hard and dry, it was more like a puck placed between two pieces of sheetrock. I then took the biscuit and went out to the car, handing it to her wordlessly. I get pissed because I’m wondering what biscuit she’s speaking of because she didn’t have a biscuit; she said she didn’t want one. The only 2 biscuits that were left belonged to my sons! At this point, Carmen*, I’ll call her, decides she wants to ride over to my mom’s, and sit there for a while before having my mom bring her back home. No asking, she just told my mom she was going. We then had to wait another 30 mins for her to get her shoes and purse. By that time, I was just ill. I didn’t want her to go anyway and thought it inconsiderate to invite herself when my mom was obviously tired. She assured me she would.
I kept my mouth shut and the wedding went on as planned. I worked on an agency team for a major bank handling PPI claims. She noticed it was hot when she took it, but she talks so d*** much, she didn’t really pay attention until she bit down on it and papped that mouth up. And I guess I can’t really say bit down on it, because the biscuit was so rubbery, it didn’t separate. Now, I know this was not showing the Lord’s way, and believe me when I say I’d never done anything like that before or after, but I was sick of this lady, and I wasn’t going to let her eat that biscuit. Even if we stopped and got something else, one of them would still get home and feel left out with just one biscuit there. I just hoped the bus would be late and I could make sure there were two of something….and there was, but on THAT DAY, Carmen didn’t eat my son’s sausage biscuit. It was mean, but I have to admit I did it… Don’t judge me, pray for me. And please, whatever you do, don’t try to eat my kid’s food.