The art of dating when you are in your 40’s is a perilous, soul destroying mission. I blame my misfortune with men on the 'fairy tale factor'... That never ending belief that love conquers all and that one day a prince will come.
Reality isn't even close to the fairy tale. Especially when the prince doesn’t just come with baggage – he comes with a bitter, money grubbing ex-wife clinging to his back like a hump.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
School Holiday Psychosis
Even though I have put our agreement in writing; even
though I remind the Moodle of the terms prior to the school holidays coming
around – I expect the Harridan She Devil and Shellfish Controlling Bitch that
is his ex-wife – will attempt to fob “her” responsibilities off
onto me – all the while, putting hand to heart to declare that everything she does,
is for the kid – yeah – I know… you are mopping your brow due to all that you
In anticipation of Hell, I keep an eye on
things. The Squeeze won't mention anything to me unless he absolutely has to; which means he will attempt to circumvent our agreement rather than set the Harridan down – and he will do it
when he figures it is too late to change it.
Of course this kid is a manipulative little darling who wipes snot on my wall as if to say “in your face bitch!” There is no
way I’m going to forget the terms. I won’t have him here for one second
more than I have to. Still, just so that I know and can ready myself for
the usual bullshit, I try to keep an eye on what is going on. If I ask, I get the same statement "no dramas..." No drama and Harridan don't fit in the same universe.
So the Squeeze – at my prompting tried to have
things organised for the week he is taking off to have the kid - off site, down the beach.
He got this charming reply:
“You r having Kid for
whole week. Your week with yr son
One week since 2009 -not bad
How could you turn into one of those dads that dont
spend playtime with their kids
Enjoy this time and put them ahead of yr boss for once
Work with Kid and what ever week
hes not filming go to beach
Righto…. Does this psychotic bitch not
understand that her holier than thou crap is pretty hard to wash when I am
basically raising her kid..? When I have him more than she does?
And when she is pushing hard for us to have him more..?
Does she really not see that “I am mother; I am
perfect.” doesn’t wash when it is obvious to the world what pathetic mothering
skills she actually possesses..? As I’ve said previously, I’d have rather
stabbed my eyes out than have handed my kids over to someone else to raise. Let alone someone I know doesn't want them.
Still, her totally delusional reply that we haven’t
had the kid since 2009 is a ridiculous lie that can be proven wrong in a
heartbeat – so what is the point…?
I sent the email and reply to my sister who replied:
A) She NEEDS to be slapped down with facts B) She's a teacher?? She is barely literate! I would have a conniption if she was teaching one of my imaginary kids C) Playtime???? Seriously??? He's 16. Is she TRYING to raise a serial killer?
Frankly, I love the word conniption (and have blogged
about it previously…)
Also, I have often commented on her caveman series of
uggs and grunts that seem to pass for English. She butchers the English
language more than I could imagine was possible. Illiterate cow.
And ahhhh. The old “playtime” line. I
couldn’t have said it better myself and in fact, my sister’s comment was a
replica of exactly what I felt when I read it.
No wonder this kid gives me the
creeps when he is sitting behind me. Next thing I know he will have on a
wig, mummy’s dress and be stabbing me!