My daughter isn’t friends with her biological father on Facebook, but they do chat occasionally. He’s the one who initiates it from what I’ve gathered. She says that she is always short with him.

She brought him up a couple of days ago.

“He asked me if I wanted a cat.”

*Disclaimer: I love cats, just not from him.

I looked at my husband, rolling my eyes.

“A fucking cat? You’re kidding me? How about some money instead?”

He never did give me weekly payments like he promised back when I left him. (My fault for trusting him.) If my calculations are correct, he owes me about 14 years of back child support.

He’s always been good at hiding, but now I have a general idea of where he lives. I wonder if it’s too late now, B will be 20 this upcoming January. I’d like to hit him with some long overdue child support papers.

smack
SMACK!

I sure could use the money. (Update…it’s too late, she’s out of high school.)

“What an asshole,” my husband retorted, shaking his head in disgust.

“That’s what he is,” my daughter agreed, which is both hilarious, and incredibly sad at the same time.

She asked me if I wanted to see a picture of him.

“He’s all old, and gross now. He’s grey, and all wrinkly.”

“No, thanks,” I replied, although a part of me is curious. He just turned 45, and I am thrilled that Father Time has been using him as his own personal chew toy.

father time
I love chewing on douchebags.

“It will make you happy,” she said, walking over to show me her phone.

“No. You know what would make me happy? *If he were dead.

I know, pretty harsh, and I probably shouldn’t have said it to my daughter. (Thinking it wasn’t my fault.) He triggers the worst in me.

I’m sometimes too honest, I guess.

He’s allergic to sea food. Maybe he could accidentally eat a shrimp? I don’t know.

“That’s mean,” my daughter said, but I could tell that she wasn’t mad at me. She knows how I feel about him, and seems to understand my emotions concerning her sperm donor.

“I get it,” she said solemnly.

We left the conversation at that.

I am livid that he offered her a cat. That takes a lot of balls.

Like, hey I know that I am the absolute worst father in the world, so to make up for it, here’s a ball of fluff that you can take care of. You know, like the way I should have taken care of you.

FUCKING ASSHOLE.

*This is not a death threat, I just wish that he would go away, like permanently.

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