Here's a good one. When I was still married to my ex and pregnant with my third son, I had cooked dinner. I was 8 months pregnant in the month of August. I was hot, short tempered, moody, tired, etc... you know the rest. I cooked fish sticks and french fries (I was also lazy about dinner) this particular night. I gave everyone their plates and left what I was going to eat on the pan on top of the stove. I made a point to tell everyone that I gave them extra and what was left was mine then I ran upstairs to change my clothes. 10 minutes. 10 minutes was all I was away from the kitchen. I came back down stairs to NOT ONE GOD DAMMED FISH STICK on the f&*king pan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "Who ate my god dammed food!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Screaming and from what I was told later, looking pretty psychotic I stared at my now ex to see a look of sheer terror on his face. I saw a distinct color of Rage Red and threw the pan, broke all the dishes on the counter, took his plate and threw it in the kitchen then broke down HYSTERICALLY crying. Yep, hyperventilating and all. I lugged my huge pregnant ass up the stairs as fast as I could and into my bathroom where I proceeded to cry for 20 minutes. I came back down about 45 minutes later to find a Super Sized Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese value mean and a Strawberry Shortcake.
~Leslie
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