Lost Time
My ex is late. Again. Only this time he's dropping off Chickadee, not picking her up, which means he's cutting into MY time with her.
We share custody 50/50, so she spends alternate weekends with me. I agreed, several weeks ago, that he could take her to stained glass lessons on 2 weekends she's with me, on the understanding that it would be 2 hours, plus commuting time (30 minutes round trip). This morning, he picked her up at 10:30, because he needed extra time to grab a coffee before the class. She just called (he always gets her to call when he's late bringing her back, because he knows I won't show her how irritated I am), half an hour after I expected them back, to say they were running a little late but were going to stop for lunch first. So by the time they get here, it will be at least 4 hours out of my day.
In the grand scheme of things, not a big deal, I admit. And as custody arrangements go, ours is remarkably amicable.
What bothers me is that he genuinely doesn't understand why I would be bothered by this at all. He's one of those special people who thinks that if something is good for him, then it must be good for everyone. He gets so befuddled when I don't instantly agree to whatever he wants that the urge to slap some sense into him is almost overwhelming.
It is completely beyond his comprehension that when he's late, it not only affects Chickadee and I, but also MonkeyBoy (who adores his sister) and, frequently, Himself. To my ex, the 4 of us should be more than happy to do whatever it takes to make his life easier.
There are days when I hope fervently that he will step in front of a speeding bus. Not because I hate him (I'm generous even when wishing death on him, you see, because I do hope it's quick and painless) but because my life would be so much easier if he were out of the picture. And it's much more realistic to hope he'll fall off a ladder and break his neck than expect him to see anyone else's point of view, or inconvenience himself in the slightest to benefit the rest of us.
He's gotten much worse in the 6-and-a-half years since we separated, but it still amazes me that I didn't notice his self-absorption before I married him.
Still, I'm in a happy, secure, loving relationship (with regular and fantastic sex) now, and he's alone. And celibate. And probably always will be. So THERE!
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