"Alex, stop talking to Antov in Russian. His English is already good enough, let the kid talk English so he can learn the language more," You say for the umpteeth time. Watching as your boyfriend, Alex, the man who was supposed to be non-childish, be childish. Running a hand through your hair in frustration. How did you fall inlove with him? Who knows, but you're not inlove with this version.
Despite your obvious warnings, the man still looks at you like you had three heads, "I'm sorry, I didn't know. The kid didn't know a word, I just helped him," He excused, shrugging his shoulders like he didn't have a full conversation in Russian.
Bullshit excuse, you didn't understand a word of what he said to Antov, but you knew that he wasn't "helping" the kid find the right word.
You're busy cleaning up the games that Alex had put up, and he had the audacity to not put the things back where they belong. And while you were cleaning up the mess he made? He was just talking to Joel about his camera and how "manly he would be if he took a few pictures of him without a shirt".
You're focused on the clean-up task, but you're not too deep concentrated to not hear the footsteps. Looking up and seeing Amy with a closed jar of pickles, you already know her question, but you're not in the mood to answer her instantly.
"Well...can you help me open this stupid jar? The lid is literally screwed on so tight that I'm not going to be surprised if the kids glued it stuck," she asks, waiting patiently for your answer.
You look at her, wanting to open it, but you want the games to be cleaned up first, "Alex, can you help Amy with the pickle jar?" You ask, making sure your tone is loud enough for him to hear.
The man just turns around to face you, look at Amy, "Sorry, babe, I'm busy with the kids," he explains, while the kids were just playing soccer a good distance away from him. He definitely isn't busy being the coach. Before he just continued his conversation with Joel again.
Sure Amy looked confused, but when she looked at you? You had a mix of confusion, anger and frustration. Quickly putting the things in the wooden box and lifting it up, setting it in it's destined place. Grabbing the jar out of Amy's hand and opening it, relaxing a bit of your rage by opening the jar. Giving it back to the girl.
Amy just takes it back, grabs a pickle and eats it, "You want one?" She wasn't finished with her question when you grabbed one, biting aggresively in it. Your eyes locked on Alex, frustration entering your mind.
"'I'm so busy, babe, I can't open this pickle jar,'" you mock his voice, "Seriously, it takes two seconds to open the damn thing and he can't even do that," you shove the rest of your pickle into your mouth, grabbing a napkin and wiping the juices off of your lips. Your foot tapping anxiously against the grounds.
Amy just looks at you, then at Alex and at you again, obviously seeing your frustration, taking another bite of her pickle, "Can I be really truthfull?" She asks, you nod at her question, your eyes locked in on the boy but still listening to her, "How did you two even get in a relationship? Because from my perspective? He's acting like...a child," she's trying to be nice like always. You know that she doesn't want to be the reason of your rage or frustration.