So my H was supposed to take the skids somewhere for New Years Eve. I don't know, something to do with other kids. This was going to leave me blissfully alone to ring in the New Year as I saw fit. I was looking forward to a night alone, a Walking Dead marathon, and maybe a bottle of wine. I planned on stretching out on the sofa, wrapped in my fuzzy red robe and slippers. I was so, so looking forward to it.

Then someone, somewhere, got sick. Their plans got canceled.

Now guess who gets the pleasure of their fucking presence? Me.

Fantastic. Not.

As I said last night, some things never change:

2 hours into the twins visit here and all hell broke loose. But it is just the same shit. Nothing has changed.

The twins start fighting. One of them gets hurt and start screaming bloody murder. Retribution occurs. A full-blown battle ensues. Dad comes running to separate them. One accuses him of playing favorites. Arguing over who dad spends more time with. Crying. Screaming. Throwing things.

Last night, before bed, I asked my H where the dog was:

He replied, "She is in the kids room."

I asked what I feel is a fair question, "They aren't going to hurt her, are they?"

Naturally since he can't recognize how evil his kids are, he asked, "Why would they hurt her?"

My response was a truth bomb, "Who knows why they do any of the things they do and they've proven themselves to be capable of quite a lot."

Silence.

Before he climbed into bed, he released the dog from their room.

Note to all concerned: They didn't hurt the dog.

I just made it through an entire visit with SD without having to lay eyes on or having to speak to her once!!

And, it was her birthday on Friday.

Yup, I am THAT evil.

Friday night, I went to bed before she got here.

Saturday morning, I was up, dressed, and gone off to hang with friends all day before she even got out of bed.