Dear in headlights
The poor man. How many times people must say this, when thinking of Sam, having to live with this WOMAN who has these WILD IDEAS and this FIERY TEMPERAMENT. I know. What can I say? I'm a pain in the ass, and I always have been, and I continue to be. I have not mellowed with age. I'm working on it. But today, today I deserve some credit. Today I did not yell. I did not freak out. I did not melt down. I did not cry. Or swear. (well, maybe a little swearing. BUT NOT AT HIM.) I asked a simple question: "May I have the paperwork from the movers?" And he said "They didn't give me any." And I said "Well, what did you sign? Didn't they give you a copy of that?" And he said "I didn't sign anything." (this might have been when he got The Look) "What do you mean, you didn't sign anything? What did you do when you dropped off the moving pod and the trailer?" "Um, I unhooked the trailer from the