Why am I being punished?

So...

Back when I first met Snappy, his reaction to me was 'd@mn....I would stop smoking for her!'

Fast forward almost two years later and we are still fighting the nicotine battle.


*sigh*

When I got pregnant, I figured once and for all we would wrestle this demon to the ground and make mince meat out of his ass. So, about 3 weeks ago, Snappy's doc gives him a prescription for the patch -- thank ya' Lawd!! And we began a cancer stick count down.

Snappy agreed that the pack he had would be his last and then he would start on the patch. Fair enough, I don't want to punish the man, I just want him to quit. So, everyday I'd ask Snap how many ciggs he had left to help him count down. 18....15....12....9... until I forgot to continue asking (thanks pregnancy brain!)

So, on Sunday the pastor is preaching about things that people have overcome -- drugs, drinking, smoking.... Ding! Ding! Sweet baby Jesus reminds me of my cigarette count down. When we get in the car I ask Snap how many cigs does he have left.... uhm.. uhm.. I dunno. Wait a minute... did you buy a NEW pack, negro? Yes. I had to break my boo down in the nicest way possible. First of all, you lied. Second of all you lied and third of all we had an agreement and you lied. Give up that brand new pack, son.

That was Sunday -- what has Snappy been doing ever since? Acting like a contestant for a new show he must be starring in called C rack heads gone Wild. He is animated 24/7 -- I mean, I was expecting attitude from the nicotine withdrawal, not to be living with a nigga that's constantly acting like he's tweaking! And when I tell him to shut up, sit down, be quiet, stop touching me, leave me alone... you know what this fool says?

GIMME A CIGARETTE.

{{enter blank face here}}

Why am I being punished?

Jesus, be a fence all around me please, unless you plan on drop kicking this fool!

This morning, he's taking me to work, singing at the top of his lungs, grabbing my tender melons (aka breasts for ya'll slow folks) and asking me if we can do it in my office..... HELP!! This is so not fair. Yesterday, as I'm laying on my couch slowly dying from this intense pregnancy back pains, he's dancing around me singing jingles he's made up. I tell him to shut up and what does he say?

GIMME A CIGARETTE.

I seriously think he is trying to drive me crazy so that I'll cave in --but no. I am going to fight this until the end.

Or light his ass on fire.