John was backing into the driveway after picking Trent up from school (which he was doing as a favor because my car is in the shop) and for some reason he couldn't see Larry's motorcycle in his rear view mirror. The result was that he backed into the bike and knocked it over. Said bike had a cover over it so it didn't get dinged up. However, it also had a boot on it to help keep it from tipping over (smell the irony) which made it impossible for John and I to set it upright. We tried. Several times.

I called Larry at work to let him know. That's only fair, I think. Otherwise the sight of his bike lying inert in our driveway like a dead bird might have come as a bit of a shock. I knew he'd be pissed, but I didn't expect him to lose his flipping mind in front of my mom. Being screamed at by one's spouse, having one's son proclaimed a fucking moron by said spouse and having it all happen in the driveway so that the neighbors could also enjoy it is pretty damned embarrassing. Granted, I probably should have held onto more of my own decorum until my maternal unit left for home, but when he called John a moron I lost it. Anyone who knows me also knows I can match both volume and swearing when angered and so Hubbins got his too. Both in the driveway and in the house after my mother left.

It wasn't just that he called John names, which in my opinion was bad enough; John's a good kid and backing into that damnable bike was a complete accident. It was a lot of things. He embarrassed me in front of my mother and he was yelling at me for something I not only did not do, but never had any control over to begin with and tried to help John fix. Then he lit into John when he got home from work and apprently the exchange was brutal; I haven't seen John all evening except to go to his door a few times and ask if he was okay, which he eventually he got tired of because he said I was interrupting his gaming.

I understand that Larry loves the bike. I understand that it cost over ten thousand dollars and that we need to be careful around it. But I also realize that John hitting it was an accident and that no harm was done. Larry's done more harm running into things with the V-Dub. He's had several accidents in the Bug and in my car, one of which was a ding to the rear bumper from backing into the trailer hitch that's been sitting in a coma in our driveway since Larry threw out the transmission in my car using it to haul trash. Apparently heavy loads of yard waste and garbage on a trailer creates too much stress when hauled behind the family sedan. Who knew? I suspected, but what the hell do I know? < sarcasm > I mean, why should anyone listen to me about such things? I am just a chick after all. < / sarcasm >

The point is, he's had several accidents and I never made a federal case out of it. In fact, all I did was ask him if he was okay.

I hate arguing with him because he has this way of making me feel as if everything is all my fault and I just absolutely suck, even when the issue wasn't my fault.

I swear...I love this man but I don't need this shit. I have enough to deal with right now and have neither the time nor the patience for another one of his hour long (at least) sermons about responsibility and caution. I didn't hit the bike, and the one who did offered to pay for any damages that may have resulted from the accident.

The timing for this drama is seriously bad. I just don't want to deal with it. Zoe was up all last night and I am so exhausted, which I'm sure makes it worse but I feel like I've been run through a woodchipper. The worst of it is worrying about the relationship between John and Larry. The way Larry worded things John got the impression that he was going to be tossed out of the house if anything like that happens again. That got worked out but they're both still upset, John especially.

This is something I've been thinking about for awhile and I've decided; if anything should happen between me and Larry there's no way I want to end up married to anyone ever again. Unlike Elizabeth Taylor I can be taught, and two marriages are more than enough. I'd rather live together, or the best of all possible worlds - be a couple but live separately. Each has his and her own space, everyone's happy.

I know less drama makes me a happy girl.

Damn. The more I think about it the more I like the idea.

I wonder if I can talk Larry into separate apartments?