I'll Pick Your Friends from Now on Sweetie - Trust Me

So the other night I came home from a stressful afternoon at work the mall, only to discover the husband had allowed the blonde to invite the Branch Davidians over to play.  It's odd, them being Branch Davidians and also being allowed to leave the comforts of their compound home and come to ours to play - but they must be a new age of Davidians that allows such things or something.  But I know they are because the first time they came over to play, one of them hunted me down outside to grill me about my wicked ways. 

I was standing on the side of the garage, casually smoking a cigarette, out of their sight.  Or so I thought.  And then - that's when it happened - AMBUSHED by the youngest. 

"Why did you just put fire in your mouth?" 

HUH?

"Fire.  Why do you put fire in your mouth?"

It was clear to me at that moment they were Branch Davidians incognito.  I mean fuck.  What 5 year old isn't familiar with smoking?  The blonde has been lighting my cigarettes for me since she was 2.  Had she really never seen anyone smoke and does she really think I'm putting fire in my mouth?  Clearly I'm not - I'm inhaling deathly poison into my lungs - but it has nothing to do with putting fire in my mouth.  I had no choice but to enlighten the poor little thing and fill her in on the truths of life.  "Well sweetie, We're in the circus - I'm a flame thrower and I'm currently practicing - now please - back up out of the way - you're in the path of the midget being shot of a cannon."

She ran off, back into the house - completely mortified. 

The next time I had the pleasure of seeing the Branch Davidians, the husband had invited them along to a softball game.  Only they had no interest in the game and instead wanted to whine and beg for shit.  Odd behavior for the Davidians, I admit.  But clearly this is how Davidians behave when released from their compound allowed to travel with non-Davidians.  And then I lost one of them.  Gone.  In a flash.  Fucking Davidians.  Always have been a pain in my ass.  Remember when the fuckers locked themselves down and allowed themselves to be gassed by the government in 1993.  Genius.  So I had no choice but to go look for her, I didn't want her mother calling in their moronic leader and gassing me.  Finally I found her.  On a different ball diamond.  Sitting on the bench, looking very melancholy.  I can't stand a melancholy 7 year old, so I did what any caring, motherly type would do. 

I turned to the blonde and said, "What.the.fuck. is wrong with her?"  The blonde informed me that the older Davidian was sad because she used to play T-ball and now didn't and she was just sitting on the bench - thinking back on her T-ball days.  Oh fuck me.  She's fucking 7 years old.  Are you fucking kidding me?  So again, keeping in the spirit of mother-of-the-year as always, I turned to the blonde and said, "I don't have time for her shit - you tell her to get her ass off that bench and get back to our field STAT and furthermore - tell her there is going to be a lot more shit in her life that she mourns for and eventually she'll forget about her one fucking season at T-ball."  I rock at motherhood - and nurturing children.  I should totally write a book to help others who aren't as fortunate in these natural talents.

So you can only image my delight at finding them in my house after returning from the seventh depth of hell mall the other night.  I got out of the car and found the husband standing in the garage chugging down a pounder of beer and looking very frazzled.  Because I not only am a nurturing mother, but also wife, I obviously showed him the sympathy he deserved.  "Really?  You're the one that invited the fucking freaks over here - not me.  When are they leaving?  In about 3 minutes?"  Nope - he had agreed to let them stay until 7 p.m.  FUCK.  That meant dinner and me acting like I gave a shit about their needs.  So I trudged into the house - and was met by a fucking band of wild banshees - screaming and whooping and hollering - and swilling back soda pop.  I receded back to the garage  - "WHAT.THE.FUCK.  YOU LET THE DAVIDIANS DRINK SODA?  JESUS H. CHRIST MAN - WHAT.THE.FUCK ARE YOU THINKING?"

They were like those goddammed Gremlins that got fed after midnight.  They were crazy asses - jumping on my furniture, screaming and doing cartwheels around my house.  Clearly we had to quickly reverse this unforgiveable error made by the husband.  So we quickly threw together some boxed orange food and chicken lips stuffed in casings, threw some fruit on the plate for good measure and brought them to the table to eat.  Well this one likes ketchup AND mustard and this one likes her hot dog plain and this one doesn't like blueberries and that one is allergic to blueberries.  And Shut.The.Fuck.Up and just EAT.  And so they did and all of a sudden - it was like eating with a group of wildebeast.  The lip smacking that proceeded throughout the meal was overwhelming.  The husband was laughing so hard at one point that he damned near choked.  I kicked him hard under the table and he stopped the outbursting - but continued to laugh to himself and had tears running down his face.  The brunette almost threw up and I could tell she was taken aback and totally grossed out because she ate her food quickly and dismissed herself from the room - which is very unusual for her.  I was with the brunette.  I just had to get the fuck out of the room. 

At 7:00 sharp, I looked at the husband and announced - "7:00 - better load up your friends and get their asses home before they come looking for us - and please - try NOT to practice your circus tricks in front of them - it confuses them."

We asked the blonde recently who she wanted to have over for her upcoming birthday - she started to say the name of one of the Davidians - uhhhh- HELL NO.  How about that one cute little thing who's parents we were drinking beer with the other night?  She seems fun!  Let's have her over!  She's easily convinced - so no Davidians will be at the birthday celebration - THANK GOD.