Sunday, 21 August 2011


And so, this afternoon the boys were with their father.   Mid afternoon, the phone rings.

“We’re not far away.  Are you going to be in?” He asks. 

Well, yes actually, I was.  I was enjoying my afternoon break before the kids returned.

“Well, I thought I’d bring them back so we could play with the dog in the park.”  He continued.

OK.  Play in the park with MY dog.  Bring them back mid-afternoon, when I’m having what little time I have to myself.  Marvelous. 

But as I know the kids will be within earshot of him, I decide it’s not a great idea to say “No, I don’t want them back.”

And so they return.

We all go to the park together, because I know the dog will run home if I’m not there.

The ex-husband then proceeds to tell me how I should train my dog to drop her ball.

Well actually, she does drop the ball for me, because I’ve already trained her to do so.

Then a local dog walker appears with his dog and we get chatting.  And before you know it, my ex-husband is talking to them about MY dog as if it’s HIS.

Then, when my ex-husband moves away, the local man starts talking to me and refers to the ex-husband as “your husband”.

OK.  By this stage I want to scream.  This is MY afternoon.  I don’t get much of a break from the kids when it’s holiday time.  And my ex is being referred to as my husband, talking about my dog as if he owns it.  And then finally.  It’s time for him to go.

There’s mayhem in the house. The neighbours kids have joined us.  And before I know it, the eldest is in the garden with our neighbour’s son, spray-painting the scooter.  The house stinks of aerosol spray paint. 

I go to investigate.  I tell them to do it in the park.  He doesn’t listen, freaks out because a wasp has landed on the scooter and is about to try and kill the wasp with the spray paint.  I forcefully say “Don’t do that.  You’ll get the spray paint on the garden table.  Go to the park and do it there.  And ignore the wasp.”

Again, he doesn’t listen.  Instead, he freaks out because he thinks he’s going to get stung and drops the scooter.  I try and grab it before it falls and smears the BLACK spray paint on the table.  It hits the table anyway, but in the process I get the black paint on my NEW TOP.

Then I notice that someone has trodden in a pile of dog poo, which I haven’t had time to clear up out of the garden.  Haven’t had time, because the kids have been returned 2 hours early.

My afternoon of peace has turned into chaos.  And I start to scream…

“G E T   O U T!   G E T   O U T   O F   T H E   H O U S E   A N D   G O   T O   T H E  
P A R K!”

I have put my top in the washing machine.  I’m not too hopeful that the black spray paint is actually going to wash out of my NEW TOP.  Sorry, not sure if you got that it’s a BRAND NEW TOP.

What a lovely end to my afternoon…  And this is DAY ONE of my giving up smoking.  I really, really want a cigarette. 

But I have resisted.

Yours, VERY VERY VERY grumpily..

Lara Lakin

1 comment:

  1. I remember dealing with this with my ex. I actually had to have a very difficult conversation about "respecting my time" and he, thankfully, listened.

    I certainly don't blame you for being grumpy. Chaos is handled much better when Momma gets a break.

    Wishing that for you!


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