*Update: I forgot to add 2 more positive things about my ex, then I have nothing else nice to say about him -- don't want him to know I kind of enjoy his antics. Recently he helped me out of a monetary bind. We had an unfortunate incident where the dogs decided to chew up my big sister's pool. Nobody was interested in helping me pay for it because we could not decide which dog had done it, even though the vast majority voted for the little dog, which is not mine. My little sister got that dog for her daughter so I thought she should help pay for the pool. She said that she would have got rid of him long ago but I wouldn't let her because I do not believe that animals are disposable. The only time I get rid of an animal is when there is something absolutely unacceptable about it, like biting or too much aggression, and even then I try to work out the problem with it. So the whole amount of replacing my big sister's pool fell on me and my ex stepped up and helped me pay for it even though he didn't have to. Lastly, when I gained all that weight from doing the steroids, 55lbs in 10 months to refresh your memory, I was concerned that he would no longer find me attractive so I told him I was going to go on a diet. He told me not to do that to my body because it had been through so much already and to let the weight come off naturally. I was floored that a man would be so kind as to say that to his once-thin-wife, and truly mean it. There, I am done being nice to him. Whew! Glad that is over. Being nice is not my natural state and I am not very comfortable with it.
This morning, getting creamer for my coffee, I was unpleasantly surprised to find a thing of meal worms on top of our strawberries, right next to the sandwich cheese. I have a strong aversion to having anything like that in my fridge where I keep food, but it is a great diet tool. I go to forage in the fridge, see a vat of worms and loose my appetite. It never fails. In the early days of my marriage my husband and I went a few rounds about bait kept in the fridge. He had always kept it in the same fridge he ate out of and I could not tolerate it in the fridge I wanted to find only food in. We got a second fridge in the basement and he put his bait in there because I warned him that I was going to throw it out if it didn't get out of my fridge and he knew I meant it.
Recently my ex father-in-law was diagnosed with prostate cancer. My ex husband called me to ask about a good place to get a haircut, to make sure they were not too expensive and whether they did a good job or not. We yakked for a little bit about nothing of importance, and hung up. He called me back a few minutes later to tell me his dad had prostate cancer. He was so blase about it and I wasn't too upset either. When you spend your life as a drunken ass, you can't expect people to boo hoo about your cancer too much. Now that my ex is no longer at the mercy of his father's drunken rages, they have been able to form a kinship of sorts. They go hunting and fishing together. I asked him (my ex) if he would be too upset if his father died and he just said that he would miss having someone to hunt and fish with.
My ex, for all his asinine ways, has a core as soft as the inside of a milkweed. On our very first date he impressed me by stopping by his house because he had forgotten to feed his wild cats. Any man who would care about a bunch of rag tag cats like that was a-okay in my book. He works for UPRR, rides a Harley, is an obsessed outdoors man and looks like a rough and tumble kind of guy. I call him Pollywog, give him wedgies, pinch his chubby cheekies, give him facials, manicures and pedicures, kiss on him like he is an adorable child and the man loves it (he would probably die of embarrassment if he knew I just wrote all that). Because he looks so rough and tough, too many people in his life have treated him like he is rough and tough not knowing that he is a big softie who folds like origami at the first sign of tears, especially from me. He never puts on any kind of airs, he always is just what he is and I have a deep admiration for that.
He has been fishing a lot lately with his father. His father is not big on personal hygiene. The man used his tub to make his own beer in for a long time, has no teeth, doesn't bother to wear his dentures except on special occasions, and never uses pit juice. To say the man is ripe is a HUGE understatement. My ex called me yesterday to tell me that on the drive to the lake they were going to fish at, he had to keep his windows down the whole time because his dad smelled so bad. Later, in the boat, they got rained on and my ex was glad that his dad finally got a shower and was hoping he would be able to drive home without the windows down. They are fishing again today and my ex hopes they get rained on again, just to make sure. I told him he needed to throw some degreaser on his dad before it started to rain so they could have a pleasant drive back. He wasn't sure he brought any with them but thought that his car cleaning chemicals might do the job.
Ahhh, so many great memories brought back by the sight of meal worms in my fridge on the strawberries I was going to eat later today but now couldn't possibly. Guess that puts me on a diet whether I want to diet or not.
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