GAAAAAH!!! Margie Returns! (WARNING: F-BOMBs GALORE.)

Maybe I'll just call her Swamp Thing so that future sequels will have titles which invoke an appropriate amount of terror. And today I'm going to bury Swamp Thing in so many F-Bombs she won't fucking know what the fuck fucking hit her.

Fire in the hole! FUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!

I'm pretty sure Margie ranks even higher than FIL when it comes to people who drive me to unleash my fucking F-arsenal. You might refresh your memory of my previous run-ins with her HERE, HERE and, most recently, the best one, the one that's still freshest in my mind, HERE.

And let me preface this entire sordid tale by letting you know that it took me about 40 fucking minutes to settle down just so I could even start writing. I was pissed off to the point of absolute fucking speechlessness.

I volunteered to attend a field trip with Pie's kindergarten class today. The kids were going to see a stage production of the classic kids' book, Go, Dog, Go. I will admit to you that the only reason I agreed to go was because I love that book and I wanted to see how they could possibly make a play out of it.

Incidentally, in an ironic bit of foreshadowing, I played NWA "Fuck Da Police" in my van on the way there, since I didn't have any kids with me, for once. Cuz ain't nuthin' sexier than a 37-year-old woman in a minivan blaring Gangsta Rap.

Pie's friend Camille was in the group of four (including Pie) entrusted to my care. I informed my group that today was their lucky day because they were in The Coolest Group. The play was very cleverly done and the kiddos liked it.

Earlier this week, Pie's friend John's mom (who is cool) called to ask if Pie could come over for a play date this week. We kinda putzed around with the dates and finally I said, well, I'm going on the field trip on Friday, I'll be up there at the school anyway, so John can just come home with us and hang out for a while. Perfect. We had a plan.

Cut back to today, when I'm picking up both Pie and John from the classroom. This is the first time in his life Pie's had a friend over all to himself, and he and John are tight, since they ride together on the bus to the Gifted building. John's no slouch. The two of them were so excited to leave together, they were hugging and jumping up and down. It was so sweet.

And guess what? Somebody's little princess had her feelings hurt.

And she went and told her Mommy on me.

So 40 minutes ago, while Pie and John were playing Wii in the living room and I was making lunch for them, my phone rings.

It's Margie.

Say it with me, kids: FUCK.

"Hi, Sarah, it's Margie. Look, I know you've got a play date going on over there, and I was just wondering if it was an 'ALL-BOYS THING', or if maybe Camille could come over and play too..."

I. SHIT. YOU. NOT.

Can you EVEN FUCKING BELIEVE???

Seriously. Would you EVER???

"Camille kinda came home with her feelings hurt..."

Ok, I really do understand that. The boys were a little overt and in-your-face with it. They were excited. But tough shit, Camille. And tough shit, Margie. Grow some balls, be the fucking parent and explain to your kid that THAT'S LIFE. Sorry, kid, but yeah, life fucking sucks. And trust me, it doesn't get any better as you get older.

But is that what I said? Of course not. Once again, y'all, I am TOO FUCKING NICE.

(Excuse me while I reload.)

Um, well... I think it might be more fun if we had Camille over another time so it could just be her and Pie...

And she didn't say anything. She obviously wasn't going to let it go. So I thought maybe if I committed to a date and time, that would be enough for her.

How about I pick her up Wednesday after I drop Tito off at 9, and then she and Pie can hang out in the morning and I'll take them both to school after lunch?

You'll notice that I didn't say come drop her off. I said I'll pick her up, meaning SO YOU CAN STAY HOME. Plus, I arranged it so Margie doesn't have to come get her at my house, either. I think I did a pretty fuckin brilliant job of minimizing Margie contact, especially when I had about a half a fuckin second to come up with something to shut her the fuck up.

Would I shit you, My Vast Readership? My hands are still fucking shaking, my jaw is still fucking clenched, I am choking back tears even now, I am SOOOOOOOOOO FUCKING PISSED.

I am just in utter... fucking... disbelief.

I feel like I just want to climb into a scalding hot shower and scrub my own skin off.

Oh, FUCK yeah, she's Swamp Thing from now on. Got that, everybody? Fill in the substitution on your score card, if you're playing along at home. Swamp Thing in for Margie.

Oh, yes, I'm packin major F-BOMB heat in these Power Panties. I think maybe R needs to get me some Power Panties in a lovely shade of Camouflage for Valentine's Day.

Or, I guess I could always Go Commando.
Nah. I like the idea of Camo Power Panties.