I want a divorce.
No, this is not like the Christmas cheating thing. I’ve basically forgiven him for that, and as soon as we replace the other gift he hated—and the one from his birthday that’s become retroactively wrong—I’ll be in the clear.
This isn’t even about his parents—even though his dad called a while back and asked if he could send our son a graduation gift after they’ve spent the last fourteen years ignoring him, denying any relationship to him, denying Husband’s relationship to him… now all of a sudden he’s an adult and they want to “send him a check or something” for fuck’s sake—because if anyone has a right to do the leaving over anyone’s parents, it’s him over mine.
No, this is because he lied to me. He’s been lying to me—to you too—for years.
ME: Are you getting up?
HIM: Yeah, soon.
ME: Sorry, did you say soon or noon?
HIM: Aren’t they the same thing?
ME: What time do you think it is?
HIM: Judging by the angle of the sun—
ME: Do not start that shit.
HIM: Like… 10?
ME: (looks at phone) Be serious, please.
HIM: I am!
ME: No, I want your serious answer.
HIM: What, am I wrong?
ME: You’re not serious.
HIM: I am.
ME: No, you’re not. Be serious, please.
HIM: That was serious!
ME: No. Try again.
HIM: Is it not about 10?
ME: Look at the angle of the sun and—
HIM: I’ve never used the sun before.
ME: Wuh… You… (beats him with pillows)
ME: You’re an ass. Now get up, because it’s 1:15.
HIM: Okay, getting up. (doesn’t move)
HIM: Yep, now. (gets up)
ME: Fine, thank you.
HIM: And happy birthday!*
HIM: Because it’s after noon. And you’re getting two birthdays a day now. **
ME: Oh. That. Well, it’s actually only 10:30, so technically it’s still my first birthday. But thank you!
ME: Yeah, see? I can do it too.
HIM: You mean lie?
ME: About the time? Yup.
HIM: Okay, but I said ten—
ME: You’ve been bullshitting—
HIM: … And even asleep my internal chronometer is just that good—
ME: Your “internal chronometer” is bullshit.
HIM: How do you figure?
ME: Uh, because it’s made of bullshit, it runs on bullshit, and everything about it is bullshit. I just proved that. Winning!
See that? He lied to us about all that “angle of the sun” bullshit. Lied. To our faces.
And no, we’re not even going to discuss my teeny, insignificant little white lie. Because mine was for good.
* It’s always my birthday. I have a legally binding birthday card.
** I’m not entirely sure why we decided this was the case, but I think it started when I whined about my baby leaving me forever.