Selfish Cunt

Hey Heifer,

So, you haven’t seen your kids in 5 days, came home after work and decided it was a good idea to make yourself another fucking bath?! I guess it’s better than going out for your usual happy hour, but seriously?

What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Why did you have them in the first place?

I know it only takes 5 minutes to make mac ‘n’ cheese out of a box and shmear some cream cheese onto a bagel (this is not dinner food, you lazy cunt!), and I know your nanny made the homework go away before you waddled your fat ass home, because god forbid you have to actually be involved in your children’s academics. You shoved your kids in front of their individual screens (a seven and nine year olds have no business having their own computers!) and posted videos of, yet another, bath bomb. The norm of your selfishness knows no bounds.

It’s mind-boggling how you have zero regard or understanding for anyone else but yourself. I’m slowly learning to accept and not be surprised by this anymore, even if my brain explodes a little every time I do.

If all your children are good for are some photo ops and an occasional “I love you, mummy”, then we can arrange weekly visits, because at this point they’re rotting in your piss palace, fending for themselves, dumbing down on YouTube videos, and stepping in dog shit, while smelling like cat piss in the clothes you barely ever fucking wash. (A few days ago I washed a blanket one of them brought over, and the stench of cat piss prevailed. Cue me vomiting into my own mouth. You disgusting bitch.) How is a neglectful “mother” going to impact their growth and emotional well-being?

How many times have you used the few hours you get to spend with your kids on yourself? How many times have you shoved them in front of an iPad while you went to get your nails done or go to the useless exercise class? How many times have you left them at home when you went to a show? How many times have you left them with the nanny, so you can go to a party? You better believe I’m keeping a spread sheet, keeping track of all of it, you know, just in case you might ever get curious.

How many times have they eaten dry cereal, because you couldn’t go to the store a mile away to get them milk? Why do they share a room in your 5 bedroom house? Why do they take turns sleeping in your bed every night? Why did you tell them you have no money when they’ve asked for paper and coloured pencils to draw with, and then gave them computers? Why can you not go to a store without bribing them with useless toys, while you shop for yourself? Why do you give zero fucks about anything besides your (fake) self image?

Please to explain. You know where I live.




Author: heyheiferblog

Quiet screams if a resentful stepmum.

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