Today was the last big event in my old house, the one I shared with Viv. Gabe's B-day, my little dude turned 9. He got most of what he wanted, the baseball bat I was tipped with in January, the one with Barry Bond's signature. Don't have a clue if it's real, but Gabe seemed to like it. Of course, Ted decided to be all parenty, and told me that it wasn't such a great idea to use BB as an example of all that is good and decent in the world. As if he even gets the idea of good and decent, sleeping with another man's wife for six months before asking her to leave. But, yeah, whatever THEODORE, you're a stand up guy.
When Mom died she left me some cash, enough to buy a rundown shack in the city by the bay. Viv and I spent all of our extra money on fixing it up, and some of my tips came in handy, like the abstract painting that settled over our fireplace, and the leopard skin rug that really was leopard for our bedroom. We painted our house in vivid colors, reds and blues, greens, yellows. It looked happy. It WAS happy, until Ted came along. Ted and his steady income, Ted and his white colored shirts and red power ties. When Viv told me she wanted a divorce she couldn't even look me in the eye. And she wanted the house.
Yeah, I gave her everything. Full custody of the kids with liberal visitations for me...any time I wanted. What could I do. I'm a bicycle messenger. At least with Ted they will always get fed.
My life sucks.
1 comments:
I think it's very honorable that you are looking out for the best interests of your children. You're a good dad--don't let anybody tell you otherwise.
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