So much for writing a fluff piece, all warm and fuzzy about a relationship that erodes my coast on every high frikkin tide.
We had words. Snip, snip, back and forth, and a little thought that floats up now and then slipped right out of my mouth. They must have caught a wave on the high tide.
“I’m done.”
Yes, I finally said it out loud. I didn’t plan it, didn’t think about it, just opened my mouth and the words came out, surprisingly without a tinge of animosity. It was like hearing myself reading the words out loud, as if reading a brief statement in a calm voice. I am done.
He said, “I’m done, too.”
I said, “Good.”
It put an end to the snip-snip back and forth before our words escalated into a full blown argument. There was nothing to argue about anyway. He wasn’t happy because I had cancelled cable television service while he was gone for a couple days. Oh well… my bill, my budget, not like he pays for anything.
“Grandma, did you break up with him?” Little Miss Z was in the back seat, ignoring her mother’s warning to stay out of grown folk’s conversations. “He’s lazy, grandma. I think you should break up with him.”
Should I take advice from a nine-year-old?
She thinks he’s lazy as he is usually in the bedroom with the door shut if he happens to be here when the kids comes over. That’s what he does on most winter days when he is here even if it is just us… he lays around watching TV between naps and playing on his phone, wanders out now and then.
Oh, sweet child… not yet.
Barnbees 