"Daddy said"

Yesterday's drive home started out great.

I was ahead of schedule picking Nicholas up from the YMCA's after-school program, so I decided to stop off and treat myself to some quick pampering. I got my eyebrows waxed (after a month this was LOOOONG overdue) and even decided to get a manicure since I was there.

Afterwards I dropped into Office Max and picked up some school supplies for both of the boys and headed over to the Y.

Since this is the same gym I've been working out at for the past 10 years, everyone knows me, the ex-Mr., Nicholas, Cody and Courtney. Some of them can't even believe Nicholas is old enough to be in the afterschool program; they first saw him chilling in an infant carrier in the nursery. Therefore on days like yesterday when I'm a few minutes late they will take him from the afterschool program to the nursery. I know, I know...getting your brows waxed and nails done does not constitute being late to pick up your child, frankly it's a little ghetto fab! But on this one occasion that was me, Ms. Ghetto Fab!

So I pick him up to find, he's taken off his outer shirt. It was nearly 70 degrees on Thursday and I'm sure he got pretty hot with all the running and playing they do afterschool. Not a problem. What got my goat was the fact he didn't have his jacket. It's the third jacket that's gone missing in action since the cold weather moved in, and that's counting Christmas break. Needless to say I was not happy about that. But he's six and more importantly he's a boy. I am impressed most days when he can find his book bag.

His father took him to school on Thursday morning. I guess he figured he'd better do something after getting shot down like a black man by the New York Police Department Wednesday morning.

Anyway, we're walking to the car and he says, "Mommy, why did you take daddy's toaster? He needs his toaster."

I wanted to say, "WTF" but of course you can't say that to the 6-year old, therefore, calmly I asked him what he was talking about.

"When I wanted a pop tart daddy said he couldn't toast it because you have his toaster. My daddy needs his toaster."

Inhale.

Exhale.

"Nicholas I didn't take your daddy's toaster. That was my toaster. I bought it with my own money. Maybe daddy can get a toaster soon."

That's what I said but what I wanted to say was: "Tell your sorry daddy if he'd give me my divorce settlement money I'll gladly buy him a toaster; with damaged cords of course."

If that wasn't bad enough, after we get all buckled up in the car, he says.

"And daddy said he's not happy about YOU not putting medicine on my ear everyday. He said you need to put medicine on it everyday."

He even emphasized "you."

I'm steaming by now! Who tells a 6-year old this type of stuff? How can he be a well-adjusted little boy if this is the crap you're feeding him during your time with him?

Keep working with me God. PLEASE keep working with me! Because I was about to blow a gasket!

Me: "Daddy is more than welcome to put medicine on your ear everyday if he'd like."

Nicholas: "But he doesn't have any medicine, you have the medicine."

Me: "Trust me son, the store will sell your daddy some medicine just like they sold it to me. I'll email him the name of the store. Okay?"

Nicholas: "Thanks Mommy, you're the best mommy in the world."

You dayum right I'm the best mommy in the world! Because what I wanted to say was: "Tell your daddy he can kiss my azz with his short, ninja turtle-donald duck looking azz." On second thought don't tell him that, he might take it literally and want to take me up on it! So why don't I stick with "go to hell, doused in gasoline."

Why do adults put children in the middle of whatever their issues are? I've never understood that. Once you're finished with a person, relationship wise, be finished with them. At least I'm that way.

When I filed for divorce, I had already left the marriage. Emotionally, physically, spiritually. The get-up-and-go had got-up-and-went. I knew I could leave with a clear conscious and a wide-open heart to love again. I was through with him. And other than raising these children, we had nothing else to discuss.

Apparently he didn't see it that way a year ago and still doesn't. How long can a person hold a grudge? Am I suppose to continue to pay for wanting to be happy?

Everyone that knows me is aware of my flip lip and smart mouth. I am definitely not a tongue-biter, I say what's on my mind.

However, in this case I will attempt to keep the peace and keep my son out of the unnecessary wars divorce brings on.

I will hold my tongue, not even bringing it up to the ex-Mr. which is probably what he wants me to do. Anything to argue, even if it means using the toddler to do so.

It's times like this I wish Nicholas was still chilling in his infant carrier while traveling to the nursery.