Welcome to the fun

Welcome to the fun
Christmas Joy

Monday 4 July 2011

Day 20 - War - Hurgh, what is it good for!

So Rasta mouse (Part Time Dad) finally decides to bogle on in as I put Summer to bed. Don’t come up here part time dad or I will drag you back down the stairs by your nuts. If you haven’t sensed already, I am still fuming at his M.I.A act yesterday.
Summer hears the door go and her little afro pops up from under the sheets. ‘Daddy!’ she exclaims. I give her the look of, don’t you dare go downstairs and love that man who abandoned us to have merriment with his friends.  She practically flips me the finger , heads downstairs and run’s into PT Dads arms. Bastards both of you!
I had it planned,  I would be in bed when he came home, he would see his clothes bagged up smelling of cats piss and feel awful, he would rush upstairs, cry into my bosom about how unfairly he had treated me and we would make emotional love.
Realising this is a long shot Plan B was put into effect: not talking to the bastard for at least a week.
I can hear him acting like nothing is wrong, throwing Summer around the room as she giggles with delight as I creep to the top of the stairs to try and listen to what those cheating gits are up to.  
If I go downstairs Summer will engage me in conversation and bring PT DAD into it, then we would be talking and I would have lost, I will not speak to him, he needs to be punished!
‘Yeah she was grumpy today daddy, yes she did some shouting, look have you seen your clothes?? Hahahah it is funny isn’t it daddy!’’ there are laughing at me, the pair of them laughing, mocking me. Worst of all is Summer, she has chosen to be on Team Part Time Dad, this is new to me, because I know for a fact that she loves me most, she tells me so,  she loves me mostest! But it’s all lies isn’t it – because right now you love him mostest, oh you fickle piece of shit.
‘’Ohh me gonna kill him to blud clart when him get home!’’ – are you serious PT Dad are you mimicking me, mimicking me in a Jamaican accent, you can’t even take this seriously enough to mimic me in normal my cockney tones.
Summer is loving this, they are bonding over a mutual hatred for me.
‘’Summer bed!’’ I shout, they both go silent…. Then burst out laughing. It’s way past her bedtime now and he is being irresponsible. OK PT Dad you’re on! This is war and I will win.
I slam my door and turn up my TV so there bonding session won’t disturb me. Keep her up all night, see if I care, because you will have to take her to school tomorrow, you will have to deal with the tears and tantrums, the umbrella arguments, because I quit.
I wake up this morning and head downstairs to see an impossibly cute scene of the two of them passed out on the sofa, surrounded by biscuits, crisps and with the Disney Channel still on.
Things won’t be so cute or funny in an hour when you have to get her to school. I set the alarm 15 mins late, hide her school shoes and write ‘Fuck You’ in multi - coloured fridge magnets.
Tonight I will come home late from work and will bring back the WII – ha! Summer will then love me the mostest again and Rastamouse will feel my wrath,,,, SHIT! It’s our anniversary tomorrow!  I can’t talk to him to remind him! Shit, shit, shit!

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