So tomorrow I get the joy of my x husband coming down to go to Kayla’s surgery appointment.
I would rather sit in a pit of poisonous rattlesnakes.
Mind you, we get along…I just don’t like small talk with him…he’s well…dumb. I mean really..there is no intelligent conversation you can have with him. I’m not trying to be mean…really.
He comes from the redneck country planet of the apes called Ocala..which we here in the city like to call Sllooww-callla. Everyone talks real slow and with a drawl. His whole family are guinuine 100 percent, grade A certified rednecks. They think it is funny to be drunk and shoot firearms, and get drunk some more, and fist fights with each other, and who can pee the longest. It's also common to do the crushing beer can to the forehead trick, that is (cynical) oh so funny to watch over, and over...and over again..at every get together.
I am not lying..we were at his best friends wedding..also rednecks, and out of the back row you could hear this Psssssssstt sound..
Oh yes..the sound of a cold brewsky..
in a church..
in the middle of the ceremony.
Now I was 17 when I met him so you have to cut me a little slack…at 17 I thoughtall of this was funny. At 35 I think maybe it’s time to grow up..but it truly is a way of life and some warped gene transferrred from one generation to the other. Luckily my daughter can't stand the lifestyle either.
Now when Kayla does have the dreaded back surgery, I know ALL of the family..his five brothers and sisters, and all of their kids, and their kids- kids (because they are all getting pregnant at 15) and grandparents will come down. Even though they have not called to see how my daughter (MY DAUGHTER) has been doing since her accident, and her dad sees her once maybe twice a year and does not call…at all.
It is common in that household to make yourself feel good, by showing up unexpectedly (and empty handed) at any wedding, funeral, or hospitalization unannounced…and even at the birth of my son Nathan, Kenny did indeed show up drunk and flirt with my nurse, kept trying to look down her shirt and grab her ass
until in the middle of the contraction I had a moment..
in a satanic like
low growling voice
I said *Get the fuck out of my room*,
and thus that was my poor sons birth into this world, and Kenny never was to be seen again..
It is going to be like the Beverly Hillbilly reunion. I THINK I MIGHT THROW UP.
If anyone has ideas to help me through this, I will take them.
Almighty Heidi (Yee-Haw)