divorce, garden, health, humor, relationship, survivor


Yes, really.  This is a true story.

DD went to the store for dinner ingredients.  His mom needed to visit the pharmacy so he picked her up and took her with.

And who should “run into” him in the store?  Man-baby.  Oh, no!  Oh, yes!

And, this is where it gets weird.  Man-baby told DD how he “knew we were screwing around” when DD came to pick up the kids for their Sunday’s at the park.

This is news to DD and I.  Apparently we both forgot all of this in my drug-induced fog.

Man-baby also told DD that I smoke pot every two hours all day from the moment I wake up until long after nightfall.

This is also news to us.  Somehow I’ve got a drug habit I didn’t know about.

But this does help to answer a question that’s pestered the back of my mind the last year – Does Man-baby actually believe his lies himself or does he intentionally make all this up to manipulate people?  Either way is pretty scary.  Either he’s delusional or psychopathic.  Or maybe both.

But he must believe his own stories.  Really, to insist to the one person other than me who can be 100% sure there was no hanky-panky that there was he must believe it.

Obviously Man-baby was looking for a crack between DD and I to drive a wedge in.  Hilariously he did it in such a way as to prove exactly how messed up he is and how smart it was of me to be done with him.

He tried to kick up drama – to plant seeds of doubt in DD’s mind – about the one topic DD can be absolutely sure about.

He can only be 99% sure about the marijuana fiend rant.  He is at work during the day and isn’t actually home to see with his own eyes.  But he knows that even when I have a lazy day when he gets home the kids are happy and fed and have their homework done, the clothes are clean, the dishes washed, and dinner is ready or nearly so.  On a more typical day I have also spent a few hours helping my mom, irrigated the garden and lawn, pulled weeds, picked buckets of produce, put produce up for winter, and done the grocery shopping.  Oh, and a blog post and read the headlines on my reader and the newspaper.  Yeah, I have a lot of time on my hands to do drugs and clearly they make me a bad mother who neglects her children and responsibilities.

And so DD and I shared a bottle of wine and had a rollicking good laugh at Man-baby’s imagination and insults.  What else is there to do?

I’ve got my revenge.  I’ve got a good life with many blessings.  We work hard at building and maintaining our joy.  Man-baby’s trapped himself in his own misery.  I almost feel sorry for him, but not sorry enough to stop laughing at him.  And I’m not foolish enough to take a darned thing he says seriously.  It would be easy to get mad about him trying to interfere with my life still, to be hurt and insulted by those ridiculous accusations, but laughing is so much better for me than crying or punching.  And besides, if I let him get me down then I’ve let him get his way again.



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