Your Slave Is Out Of Order

J-Fed has been pulling all of the punches lately. Over the last couple of weeks I’ve taken a new approach. I’ve stopped calling. I’ve ceased acting like his wife and assumed the role of the dutiful ex-wife. That means I no longer offer him dinner. I stopped being a shoulder to cry on. In fact, I’ve pretty much distanced myself from him altogether.

It’s funny that when you stop caring things that used to make you mad no longer affect you at all. This in itself is a wonderful thing. If I had learned to flip the switch months or even years ago, I can’t even imagine how much happier I’d have been.

I know that my outlook has changed. People notice. In fact, little people notice. Just the other day my 5-year-old asked me why I was smiling. It wasn’t that she thought I was up to something – she simply was not accustomed to seeing me smile… EVER.

Well, I had a big smile on my face the other day when the Fedster called me about his visit with daughter. Now for the most part, my babies daddy had been leaving me alone since I returned from the mountains. But he was still getting his digs in when he could, and this was one of those instances.

The phone rang and I thought nothing of it.

“Are you bringing daughter over?” he asked. It was his night. Apparently, he couldn’t summon the energy to drive the quarter mile to come get her. Or maybe, he didn’t want to waste his precious time. It did take all of three minutes to get from his pad to my house. Oh wait, it was probably the rise in gas prices – he did need to reserve his fuel supply.

“Um, I just finished dinner and I’m cleaning up. Can’t you come get her?” I replied.