It's Too Late To Apologize

I've been trying hard these days not to be mad at J-Fed, but it's really friggin hard. Short of undergoing a lobotomy, I'd say it's virtually impossible. Time and time again, I've put my faith in J-Fed, hoping and praying he'll do the right thing. Yet, just when I think he's come to change his evil ways, I realize the demon lives on.

It was last Wednesday, the day before I left on my five-day vacation in the mountains. Work was hectic, and I had a boatload of things to do before our plane departed at 6:30... and by our, I mean, Mr. Ex, myself, my 20-month-old daughter and his two kids. Daughter #2 had already been up in the mountains with my mother Kuku for the last three weeks. Now, I knew getting everything done before my deadlines was going to be tough, which is why I enlisted the not-so-able assistance of J-Fed. Stop me now if you've heard this one before.

I called J-Fed about 9:30 a.m. to ask for help. All I needed was a simple favor. Pick our toddler up from school and bring her to my house at 4 p.m. Eliminating the travel time would give me an extra hour to work. He agreed to help, which was mighty big of him when you consider I take the kids and pick them up every day when my mom is gone for the summer. One day. That's all I needed. It seemed like a no-brainer.

As the day went on, it became hairier by the minute. Everything that could go wrong was going wrong. And then at 1:50 p.m., I was dealt the final blow.

Ring, ring...

Kiki: Hello?

J-Fed: Yeah, um. Can I bring daughter home now?

I looked at the clock and immediately felt the blood rush from my face. If he was going to screw me, this wasn't the day to do it. I ask for very little from J-Fed, and in return I expect very little. However, this was less than zero. To say I was livid would be an understatement.