How does it feel?

Hey Heifer,

When I came to pick up the kids two weekends ago you were gracious enough not to bother hearing my knocks. Not to bother coming to the door when I was looking right at you moving shit around in the sun room through the glass door. You we so kind to let the dog out from the side door to bark like a maniac next to me through the fence. And so thoughtful to make one of your offspring finally open the door and greet me with open arms. You fucking peach, you.

And then, when we went to pick up party decorations for Daddy’s birthday surprise, your youngest matter-of-factly told me that you’re throwing him a birthday party at a climbing gym this month and that Daddy and I have to figure out what we’re doing for his birthday on top of that.

First of all, he wanted a party at laser tag, but you wouldn’t know that, because you wouldn’t care to ask, because this isn’t about anyone else but you, because you’re fucking terrified of ever being in the same room as me, because how fucking dare I be anywhere near the children I’m raising for you, you dumb cunt.

Daddy and I had to have a serious talk with your disappointed “baby”, explaining to him that parents wouldn’t take their kids to two birthday parties for the same birthday boy, and how would gift giving work then? Luckily, his grandparents, uncle and aunt all happened to be in town this weekend to celebrate with a family feast by way of his favourite cuisine, we even got a private room at the restaurant! And tomorrow, on his birthday, he’ll get useful presents and a whole lot of balloons, followed by a requested trip to the science museum and surprise cupcakes. Eat that, fatty.

You really are pathetic.

How dare you manipulate your children into excluding their family all because of your need to feed the ignorance bubble you’ve constructed for yourself?

Did it feel good when he texted you saying I’m not going anywhere? Did it tingle a little when he called you out on keeping the door closed? Did you think your excuse of preventing me from a leaping dog would work? (Let’s talk about the pick-up yesterday, when your eldest opened the door, and the scary dog jumped on me without ever barking, and melted in my hands when I gave him love and kisses. Let’s talk about how angry you got and started yelling at him to come back inside. Oopsies, did I strike a nerve with that one?) Did you roll your crazy eyes when he mentioned no longer protecting your fragile feelings? Did you throw your phone down when he said to start taking the well-being of your children seriously for once?

Oh, and now you’re interested in taking them to the dentist. BUT WAIT! Not because you care, but because there were charges on your insurance that weren’t covered! You want to be in the know after not bothering to take them to the dentist for almost two years and never giving a fuck to make them brush their teeth at your house, causing them to have tons of work needing to be done, that your insurance doesn’t cover. Guess what, bitch, you can call the dentist and find out when their next appointment is. You can even schedule the one after that yourself. Funny how when the threat of money being taken away from your “self care” fund is imminent, you suddenly want to know what’s happening in your children’s lives!

Mother of the fucking year. I hope your choke on the countless burgers you shovel into your fat, greedy face.



Author: heyheiferblog

Quiet screams if a resentful stepmum.

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