Worn Out & Pissed Off

I know I haven't been a frequent flyer in these parts for a while. I wish I could say that I was off doing something fun and care-free but that's about as far from the truth as I could imagine. However, the good news is that after next weekend the house should officially be ready to put on the market. God willing and the creek don't rise.

This weekend I allowed Muffin to visit her dad. He called, missing her, and asked if it was ok for her to come for a visit as long as she stayed at his mom's house. Muffin loves her Grandma W. so I consented. After all, I should be grateful that Jackass even wants to be in her life, right? The unspoken, yet very present part of the conversation was that Muffin's step-mom would not be in the picture what-so-ever. That's the point of her not staying at his house, after all. SO I THOUGHT! But, I'm getting ahead of myself...

Though I knew I would miss my little sidekick I felt it was a great opportunity to clean out her room and paint it. Which I did. Along with the guest room and the upstairs hallway. I spent two whole days scraping, patching, priming and painting and somewhere in the midst of all that fun I managed to get my roots done. Score!

Last night I called my baby's daddy to confirm our pick-up time for today and Muffin explained that his wife - the one that's not supposed to be around my daughter - had given her some toys and blah, blah, blah. Naturally, when Jackass got on the phone I asked what the deal was! He said that the "deal" was that Muffin would stay at his mom's and that he didn't say anything about his wife not being around.

"Oh, but it was implied" I explained and went further by stating "I feel like I was deliberately misled."

To which his only response was "Uh, so are we meeting at 4:30 tomorrow?"

It. Is. On. I have nothing clever or nasty to say to him. In fact, after tomorrow I don't intend to communicate with him at all. As far as I'm concerned he can talk to my lawyer.

So, I greet this Monday morning with aching muscles and fire in my belly. I can only hope the rest of the week improves.

Oh, oh OH! And when I met him Friday evening do you know what he said? "Guess what, it turns out you can only claim two children on your taxes and expect to get any money back. So, I guess I won't need to claim Muffin after all." Afterall, he has two children with bitch-wife.

Really? Cause, I wouldn't have let you anyway. (That's almost what I said - but I confined my retort to the price of new carpet and implied that he wouldn't have seen a dime regardless of his intention). Jackass.