He's Never There When I Need Him

The contractions started around 1:00 PM Thursday afternoon. By 4:00 PM, they had fallen into a regular rhythm, coming every 35 minutes. By 4:30 I had called an ambulance to pick me up from school. By 5:30 I was in the hospital strapped to a fetal monitor and Excitement, who had just gotten off work, was stranded on the side of the road with the car spewing gray smoke.

By 6:00 PM Excitement had caught a ride to the hospital. By 7:00 PM, Excitement reminded me that we were supposed to pick up Bubba at school the next day. I picked up the phone and dialed my ex-husband Mr. Perfect.

“I’m in the hospital having contractions and our car is broken down. I’m afraid we’re going to have a little trouble picking up Bubba from school tomorrow. Can we work something else out?” I asked.

Immediately Perfect erupted. “You know we have a custody agreement! That’s a legally binding agreement, not just a piece of paper you can throw away whenever it doesn’t suit you! I have to work this weekend. I can’t afford to pay for a baby sitter every single weekend because you can’t be an adult and take care of your own kid! You need to grow up and figure this out yourself!”

I clicked the phone shut without saying a word. Another contraction was coming on and I wasn’t in a position to defend myself in verbal combat. After the pain had subsided I repeated to Excitement every word Perfect had said and even hearing myself repeat it I was astounded by the hypocrisy of his statements. I hadn’t asked him to bend the custody agreement in months but it was only last month when he asked me to watch Bubba on his nights not once but TWICE because he couldn’t arrange for a sitter. He alluded that he provided child care every weekend but he only had two weekends a month with Bubba and he chose to work through them rather than spend quality time with his own son.