I Should Get A Fucking Oscar For The World’s Longest Running Stage Production

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Some background…  My ex-husband has this funny habit of not paying his child support, and of canceling the kid’s health insurance without telling us.  He’s a winner…it’s a wonder we didn’t last.

Tracy: “So what was his response to the email about the kid’s insurance?”

Me: (laughing) “That I wouldn’t care about things like the kids being able to go to a doctor, if I moved on with my life, and it was time that I finally got over him.”

Tracy: “Oh, please.  You were over him two years into a nine-year marriage.  Can you think of ANYTHING nice about being married to that asshole?”

Me: (long pause) “Well, when we were together, I thought it would be sort of romantic to keep a secret running count of the number of orgasms he gave me.”

Tracy: “Seriously?”

Me: “Yeah.  After all…how hard is it to count to three?”

 

(I also deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for not telling him every time he fucks something up…which is all the time.)

I Have ALLLL The Huevos

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Yet another fantastically heretical Easter Sunday conversation, albeit this time by text with my favorite Jewish doctor.

 

Drew: Are you done with that whole chocolate egg thing that your people pretend is connected to Jesus, yet.

Me: The kids were done hours ago. Now they’re Skyping with their father.

Drew: Oh great. Is he correcting your parenting from afar, again?

Me: He’s telling them, to tell me, to email him their report cards, and I’m biting my tongue from saying, “Sure, but tell him to send child support”.

Drew: Well, he might actually do it!  It is your people’s day of miracles, after all.

Me: I’m pretty sure that we used all of our miracle cache on that resurrection thing.  No dice.

Drew: If he does, can we say he “rose from the deadbeat”?

Me: I love you so much right now.