Thursday, June 7, 2012
is yr son!
Is yr son! This was the rather difficult to decipher text message that accompanied a “ding” the other day.
Amazing really! I’ve noticed that the only time kid 3 is “yr son” is when it involves finances or a sitter. Strangely enough, there is no “yr son” when she decides to up and move houses without a word, or when she decides to change schools without any form of consultation or discussion.
And given our rather precarious teetering on the edge last week due to the kid’s insolence when he decides to speak to me at all; the Squeeze’s inability to discipline, and the Harridan’s desire to extend days left right and centre, I couldn’t have cared less if he was Satan’s son – this kid was not spending this week or next with us!
We have argued quite vigorously of late. Let’s face it, in the weeks since the Harridan packed and moved on a whim to a house that we are not allowed to see, be in, go near, or know where it is – she has for one reason or another required the kid to be here as often as possible. That one weekend a fortnight that I had planned on, is blowing out – and getting worse.
Before anyone drags out their soap box and points it out, yes… I understand that the kid is the Squeeze’s son; but it isn’t as cut and dried as that. For one, life has changed; dramatically. I am in the picture; and I actually drag a life with me too. Even more difficult, he moved into my environment. We are in a ‘couples’ apartment; with a guest bedroom. It is not large; not large enough to escape… Be free.
I’m not even going to talk about the bathroom or the unfortunate incident of walking in on the kid as naked and twisted as a pretzel as he heard the door slide open - a la Mr Burns style in the Marge painting episode. To be honest, the horror on my face was probably worse than his. And I was... Horrified.
It started with:
Harridan: can kid stay eithr this week or nxt week with u [strangely enough, her English was better than usual]
Squeeze: No – had a hard enough time getting Sunday [Hmm well why don’t we just wave a red flag and shout at her to keep throwing the kid at my head…]
Harridan: Wat mean getting time???? This is yr son u have to try to get time for [Yes, but the world doesn’t stop because you have something on. All plans don’t clang and change like the clock works on the beginning of an episode of Game of Thrones!]
And I waited and waited but the Squeeze didn’t mention it… I was almost lulled into a false sense of security; right up until we went to bed. Then I assume he figured the flow would be along the lines of: I would shout, he would roll over and shove his head in a pillow and it wouldn’t matter what I said anyhow, it would happen because it is ‘their kid’, she has ordered it and that is more important than me and my world.
Hmmm not this time…
Posted by Mistress at 8:55 AM