I threw my wife out of this house for the second time yesterday. I’ve wrestled with it ever since.
I’m writing a blog post at 4 in the morning because I can’t sleep. Not because I’m angry. Because I’m too damn stubborn to let go and look out for myself.
That woman sat in my living room and started into her litany of accusations about what an asshole I am… again. I’ve had enough that. Or so I thought. At that moment I had. So I gave her the truth with both barrels.
It was a short conversation and a long story. But it ended with her standing up and heading for the door as I said, “See? We can agree on something! It’s time for you to get the hell out of my house! And don’t come back until you’re ready to apologize to me and the girls for what you’ve done to this family!”
She picked a bad time, too. Yesterday, I had a couple very big talks with my girls.
I didn’t wanna do it by myself, but their mother has chosen to have an 8 year old boy in the body of a 38 year old resident alien instead of being a mother to her children. And because he’s an impetuous little coward, he’s jealous of her children.
So she wakes up every day to a choice between doing the only thing in life that ever mattered to her, or catering to the asshole. For a while now, she’s been making the wrong choice every day. The debilitating migraines she’s battled since she was a teenager have gone from a two or three a year to two or three days a week. But I’m the only one that sees any pattern there.
Yesterday I had the privilege of explaining sex to my daughters. Then – because their mother is a liar – I had the unexpected privilege of explaining to them what a “period” is, about vaginal bleeding and the difference between tampons and maxi pads. (Their mommy told my mother that she had already had that talk with them. She lied. And also never talked to me about it.)
Consequently, I was already a little on edge yesterday when she decided to come into my house for the first time in nearly a year and have a real conversation with me for the first time in nearly 2 years.
She only speaks to me when she wants something, you see. And yesterday, she wasn’t even on a mission for herself, directly. She sat in my living room and looked me in the eye for the first time in a year and a half… because I sent her houseboy an email last night and scared him so bad he had to dispatch his mommy to ask me to back off.
And I looked her in the eye and said, “This is the only way I can get your attention. I thought you should know that I had two big talks with our daughters yesterday. I explained sex to them and once they had that under their belts, I told them that Katie is not my biological daughter and they’re only half sisters. You should have been involved in both of those conversations, but apparently I can’t get your attention unless I scare your houseboy.”
Any questions about why I have custody of my children, even though one of them is not technically mine?
The houseboy donated sperm for a daughter too but never even bothered to fight for her. He abandoned her and fled to another country to try and steal my life and family as soon as her mother got tired of him. People in America seem to have caught on fast because he can’t seem to hold a job.
Then he offered me $10,000 to BUY my children after he lost the legal battle to steal my family.
No. Seriously. He offered me $10,000 cash to terminate my parental rights. He’s still breathing because he made that offer from another room through a court-ordered mediator. I think the mediator was even a little nervous at my reaction to that offer.
That mutt only lives because I allow him to and he’s pushing his luck.