Being in a healthy relationship has had a euphoric effect on me. Every day is like Christmas. Lately, I've been feeling overwhelmed by my blessings. So in the spirit of the season I've been in a giving mood.
On Friday, J-Fed stopped by the house. And while I've been quite generous these days, the Fedster obviously smelled blood from a mile away. When he walked in to pick up the kids, he scanned the room like a looter after Hurricane Katrina. He licked his chops and rubbed his grubby little hands together, meticulously planning his attack.
"You're taking everything from the house, right?" he asked me.
No J-Fed. I'm going to take the clothes on my back and leave everything else for the taking. After all, who really wants to take all of the things you've worked your ass to pay for over the years? Last time, I checked when you move, your stuff goes with you. Unless, of course, it's you, the guy who walked away from everything and never looked back.
"Can I have the projector TV?" he asked. "After all, when I moved out, I didn't take anything."
On the contraire monsaire, you took thousands upon thousands of dollars that I bought you out of the house with. In fact, the way the housing market is now, you made out like a goddamn bandit. I liken it to highway robbery. You may not have taken a couch, a plate or a towel, but you took a boatload of cash, cash you could have used to replace all of "our" worldly possessions, TEN times over.
"You're kidding right? You want me to give you the television?" I laughed out loud.
"And what about the recliners and the coffee tables? Can I have those too?" he pushed.
Yeah, you can have the recliners, the coffee tables and our first and second born. NOT. As far as I'm concerned, you walked away from our marriage with the most valuable thing there is -- your life. Because given another year or two, it wouldn't have been long before you succumbed to some unforeseen accident at the hands of moi.