Well, it's officially Xmas time. How do I know? The tree is up, check. The carols are on the radio in the supermarket, check. The annual phone call from the ex to see 'his' daughter, check.
Yes, he still says the words 'my daughter' in his one call a year. The wording this year was very similar to 2007, 2006, 2005, and so on, "When can I see my daughter?"
This year, he called at the worst time possible; the evening after the day I picked up nit/lice solution, the evening I was using said solution in said daughter's long, thick, curly hair, the evening after an incredibly busy few days of moving furniture at work, late nights, and packing a house.
This year I didn't mince words. You can be shocked and appalled all you like, but for once I did what felt good to me. After asking him what happened to his phone call to see her was in April, June and September, and he again telling me what he says every time - you took her from me, you don't let me see her. After asking him what he does when he runs out of smokes or beer, and hearing his response 'I go to the shops to get more'. That was enough for me. I hung up.
Yes, I hung up. So yet again it's my fault. My fault that he doesn't see her. Funny how everything in that relationship was my fault, and still would be viewed like that.
If you know you've run out of things (in his case, beer and smokes) and you can get off your butt and go to the shops to get more, but can't get off your butt to make time to see 'your' daughter, well in my opinion there is something wrong there.
Funnily enough, he didn't call back and he won't. She isn't worth his time.
She's worth mine and I don't have time for people that don't think she is worth theirs.
