I knew when you started texting this morning, suggesting that you no longer take a child for an hour on Wednesday afternoons (because “Winter is coming”), that you were about to behave like a fuckwit again.
I believe your 6 year-old-son plays futsal every week because he knows his Daddy loves ball sports. I knew that mentioning that I couldn’t afford to put him into the local soccer team, or boots, would fall on deaf ears. But I would have thought that, seeing you were picking our middle child up for an hour from the sportsfield during the game, that you could have turned your head to look at him. Or even watched the last 3 minutes of his game?!? Three fekkin minutes!?! And to say you’d have to take it off his time next week? Or off middle daughter’s time this week??? Because you have things to do??? Because its “grocery day”?!?
Of course, you missed the tween’s birthday because you managed to afford a trip to Australia. No worries. You sent her a text mid-afternoon. Beggars can’t be choosers, right? But to see her suck it up that you didn’t even say hello today? She hasn’t seen you for a month! Her birthday month.
You managed to rip my babies’ hearts out in a one minute timeframe. I hope you don’t spend middle daughters’ hour-a-month taking her to get groceries…
I will not let you hurt me though. I will explain to my children that it is you who are deficient, not them. And that, if I’d chosen a better dad, they would be loved. There is nothing wrong with them.
You, on the other hand, are a total wanker.