This has to be one of the worst Halloweens I’ve ever had. First I drive for an hour and fifteen minutes up north to our son’s house to deliver the goody bags my wife and I put together for the grandkids and their parents for Halloween.
When I finally got the chance to talk with him and see if/when he has some free time so we can meet for lunch in the next couple of weeks, he was less than receptive to the idea.
He recently sold his part of a local IT company that he helped start almost 15 years ago and walked away with a large chunk of change. He’s considering several different ideas of what to do next, so he’s not exactly swamped at the moment.
In a nutshell, he basically said that it would take up too much time, and wanted me to drive the 100+ miles instead of meeting me somewhere in between like we’ve done in the past. Not worth his time apparently.
Then I drive for an hour in the rain to go to our daughter’s place for dinner(jack in the box) and trick or treating with our younger grandkids. I picked up the food and went over to their place. We were all seated at the table and of course we had to say grace first(for fast food?), and our 6 year old grandson said that he wanted to do it.
Guess what he said? “Dear god, please help grandpa(me) get to know Jesus and believe in him”. Seriously? When I looked at our daughter, all she said was “he loves you”. Fuck.
We went trick or treating after dinner and it was fun watching our 3 year granddaughter get to go for the first time.
Then we drive for 40 minutes home, and as soon as we get here, we immediately start getting angry with each other because of my kitty Abby. Becky isn’t a pet person, and basically put up with me having a cat for the years that we’ve had one. As soon as she gets home from work, all I hear is how much she hates having a kitten(she’s 7 months old now) because of the way she disrupts everything. She has had to put all of her things either away or up off of the floor so Abby doesn’t get into them.
Her centerpiece on the dining room table, her sea glass and tea cup collections, she even took all of her clothes out of our bedroom closet and put them in the closet in the office so she can keep the doors closed and keep the cat away from her stuff.
The final nail in Abby’s coffin was a house plant in the office that needs to be moved so it gets more sunshine. The only option is in our bedroom, which means Abby will have access to it, but both the plant and it’s pot were gifts from work so she doesn’t want either one damaged. She never let’s a chance to let me know how much she doesn’t like having another cat go without saying something.
So now, sorry, I had to stop writing last night because Abby jumped on my shoulder and wanted her night-time nap on my chest. Every night when we’re sitting in our chairs watching TV, she jumps on my lap and then curls up on my chest. It was late last night when I started writing this, so I took a break.
We’ve been fighting about the cat every single night for the past month at least, so I have to make a choice, my kitty Abby, or my wife. We can’t go on like this anymore, it’s not worth it. My wife wants to punish her physically whenever she makes her mad, which is all the time. She’s smacked her on a couple of occasions in front of me, and I’ve told her she’s not allowed to do that again. We have water sprayers to use whenever she’s really stubborn, but that’s not enough for my wife.
So that’s how my favorite day of the year went yesterday. I’ve barely had Abby for 4 months, and now I have to give her up.
This fucking sucks.
You win. Your marriage is officially worse than mine ever was.
I’d take the cat and the divorce. At least with that option you wouldn’t get religious harassment all of the time or have your wife trying to control what you do. The damage is bad. What more is a divorce going to do? Your kids already have this imaginary asshole version of you in their mind that isn’t true. You wouldn’t get treated like shit on a day to day basis after it’s over.
Or you have to give up the wife. I’ve been single all my life but for the 6 months I tried out marriage. Holy fuck did I marry an asshole? (I married my mom - same bitchy personality. ) The woman bitched from morning to night and thought I would stand for being insulted. She got joy out of slinging insults at me in public places. "I don’t argue in public and never have. In my world, it is one of the most low-class, under educated, apelike behaviors I can participate in. I’m okay with walking away from the situation.
6 mo. later I was annulled by mutual agreement. I never did it again, although thinking back, there were a couple of very nice people I probably would have been very happy with. ‘Probably?’ Well, damn! I know I am happy by myself. I sleep when I want, eat when I want, eat what I want, stay out late, play poker, go anywhere I want, do anyone I want, and have a wonderful grasp of the fact that life, friendships, and the world are always in a state of change.
Have the wife pray to her god for the strength to deal with the cat. (I’ll bet it doesn’t work.)
Fuck that, if someone in my family would directly pray for me like that, I would get right up and leave. That’s coaching, grooming, and exploiting a child for that plot. Nope, nope, nope. NOPE. That is all fucking awful man. If it was me I would peace out.
Okay, here’s an update on the situation, my wife is less than thrilled to have a kitten in our little 2 bedroom place, but I told her last night that I’m not giving up Abby. We’ve become very attached to one another, and the thought of having to give her away was breaking my cold, black heart.
Her biggest complaint was about Abby jumping up on everything, her bed, the dining room table, the kitchen counters, etc. I agree with her completely about the table and the kitchen, my biggest fear is of her jumping on top of the stove while it’s still hot and getting burned.
She loves to jump up onto my shoulders and ride around the house, and we play with her toys several times a day. We also got her a little kitty “castle” with several hiding spots and perches up off of the floor, and she loves it.
I’ve also started taking her outside into our little back yard and deck area. I wanted to wait until she was a little older, but I was outside on the deck grilling burgers for dinner, and she was at the sliding glass door wanting out, so I let her out for the first time, and it was fucking hilarious watching her run around the yard with her tail up in the air. She was having a lot of fun experiencing wet grass and dirt for the first time ever and checking out the yard for the very first time.
Our yard is completely fenced in, and she only gets to go out when I’m with her, and she’s very well behaved, almost like a dog. She comes when I call her, and if she tries to go somewhere she shouldn’t, she knows what the word “no” means.
She’s calmed down ever since that evening, and has been better at doing what she’s told, it’s a work in progress. She just needed to blow off some steam I guess.
It’s time for my afternoon batch of pills, and her daily kitty treats.
I’m not giving her up.
Put a little kitty gate on the kitchen. Tell your wife you love her, and thank her for her sacrifice. She is not being unreasonable. She is only trying to get her way. She does not like the damn cat. Try to make her feel better about it.
When I was little we visited my Great Aunt Grace. She and her husband lived in the boonies. He (my uncle) was an abusive alcoholic- kept the family poor and walking on egg shells.
The home was dirty and smelly. The youngest of her kids was 18 - the rest had moved out. I hated every moment being in that home.
Driving back to my grandmas (her sister was Grace) my mom commented with admiration that Gracey & her husband had been married for over 30 years. My mom had been married under a decade to the same type of man.
I remember thinking that it was the most fucked up thing I heard. I was disgusted. Mind you, I was the kind of girl that admired an “old maid” the other wives would gossip about because she wasn’t married.
My own past marriage lasted 8 years. I prefer BY FAR my single hood.