My daughter asked me this the other day as we were shopping for party supplies for my grandson’s first birthday party, which takes place on Sunday.
“He’s fine,” I replied. “For now.”
And indeed he is. But when he kissed me this morning as we were getting ready for work and I could already taste and smell the vodka – I don’t even wonder how he manages to sneak it past me any more – I reminded myself (again) it won’t last.
Of course, the “for now” qualifier began a conversation where I reminded her that it is highly unlikely this marriage is headed anywhere but divorce court. She’s not happy about it – she not only loves my husband, but likes the convenience of having me available at a moment’s notice – but what am I going to do? Lie about it? I don’t think so; my sister spent the last 30 years bending over backwards to hide the consequences of her husband’s alcoholism from her children and it has come back to bite her in the ass – hard. (I’m working on a post about that.)
I have heard nothing about the job I interviewed for last week, not even a letter of rejection, so I’m continuing the hunt for gainful, reasonably-compensated employment. In the meantime, I continue to keep in mind that not only will my husband’s current good behavior not last, it is entirely up to me to keep my cool when the vodka-fueled shit hits the fan. It doesn’t matter how unfair or how hard it may be, it simply is the only way to deal with an alcoholic. For my own peace of mind if nothing else.
In other news, Dixie finished her beginner’s training class last night, and even won the special prize at the end of the night for being able to ignore the treat on the floor the longest after being given the command “Leave it!” She’s no dummy, my Dixie – she knew I had a treat in my hand I’d give her if she ignored the one on the floor. 😉 We begin the intermediate class tomorrow; the trainer said my energetic and often excitable little black dachshund mix is going to be a “hoot” in that class.
I can’t wait.
The Fairy Tale That Wasn't 