is [yet another] failure to communicate.
The boys were supposed to stay at X’s tonight. So they could get up early to go to N&M’s farm with X to mow.
I came home from the movie at 11:00 p.m. to find teenager shoes all over the entry way.
Apparently, X “forgot” that DS2 had a baseball game tomorrow evening and so decided not to go to the farm tomorrow. That and something about not being able to take the day off.
So, the boys were returned home at the usual time.
Which is all well and good. Unless I had made plans to go somewhere for the night. Like Duluth. Or a cabin. Or out drinking until 2 a.m. Or any number of legitimate “entertainment” scenarios that one could think of when the children aren’t going to be home.
And if I say anything, the response will be an attitude-filled apology and a ‘promise’ that it won’t happen again. Like the last time. And the time before that. And the time…
Oh, you get the idea.
Posted in divorce








