The Ex's date and I have just done the "morning" nod as we passed on our way to the bathroom. Well, I was on my way out and she was on her way in, and I did more of a wide, broad "delighted to meet you!" smile whereas her face had more of a "Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?" look to it.
You'll note I avoided the "Hi! I'm Himself's ex! It's great he's remembered the deal we have about no night time visitors. I say "we" have, it's more his rule that I abide by. The kids that started crying during your knobbing session are our children. Do come down like the half dressed, sour faced trout you are and meet them!" Instead, I merely smiled and offered her a coffee. I imagine she thinks I'm his mum...
I'm not hurt, I'm not jealous, I'm very pleased for him. He's adorable and deserves to be happy, and I genuinely want and wish him the best of everything.
I'm just a bit annoyed because I can't even contemplate having someone back at night. I have to stay in the "quick! The kids are at school!" time slot, because anything else involves having to think about whether the kids will like the man involved, if they would be able to handle my odd living arrangements, if they could handle the kids' disabilities, and least likely, if they could put up with me or if I could put up with them. It all gets a little bit too much like a relationship, and we all know how *great* I am at those. Yet he gets to just roll with it, as it were. Lucky sod.
*Ego plummets to new low, not due to his dating or getting laid, but because clearly his type is the miserable bitch elite. And of course I am unable to stop thinking, which is "oh so helpful."*
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment