Brightening your day with the augur of Grim Death
First of all, I’m feeling really gratified so far by the positive feedback and civil discussions this blog has engendered. But I absolutely don’t want anyone to read WTFGU and reconsider their marriage vows. Are you kidding me? To me, recommending Divorce With Kids is like telling people to have their shins amputated because Hey! You can get these cool, springy prostheses!
As Reader PP said, we’re doing okay. For now. Moxie has lots of work out of town, and I can pick up the slack because I’m out of work. Life’s a little easier because the amenable weather of autumn is coming. But this is the eye of the hurricane. The kids’ after-school activities start next week, and soon the sun will go down at four-frickin-thirty, and the weather will turn cold and wet, and there’s going to be a lot of:
- Shit! T’s boots are at Mama’s!
- Shit! R’s homework is at Dad’s!
- Shit! We’re cursing way too much in front of the kids!
Also, by the way, I’m out of work. Another wolf at the door.
On my own blog, I recently posted about how my 45th birthday, and the recent death of a high-school classmate, had me thinking about mortality. Naturally, it didn’t help to read about the passing of Greg Giraldo, a great comedian and another child of 1965. After a good few hours of stewing in my brainjuices, I got to thinking: What if that happened to me? What if my heart just gave out and I died in my sleep? There’s a good chance that either 1) my kids would find me and be emotionally scarred for life, or 2) I’d be alone and (since I’m not working) unmissed, until I didn’t show up at school to pick up the kids. Who would be told their daddy was dead and be emotionally scarred for life.
There’s a third option, naturally, but so far asking women to stay over so they can call my family if I wake up dead hasn’t worked out so great.
So I guess the message here is that Divorce With Kids is a shit sandwich, and the more bread you have the less shit you taste. Do it if it’s the absolute last resort, but be aware that, for all the potential good a divorce might bring, there’s also the chance that your dead body might not be found until your neighbor complains about the smell.