And that brings up an issue with me. My ex-wife was a package deal. She came with a seven-year old daughter. Not a big deal, I was young. But now I have raised my children. The last one will fly the coop in the spring. Well maybe the fall when he heads off to school. His older siblings never made it through the summer before they split. Wonder if he’ll follow suit. In my mind I am done yelling, punishing, and giving stern looks. The rest of my parenting is giving sage advice and luring my sons into some new adventure. As long as I don’t do something really stupid, I should never have to deal with one of my children calling me an asshole.
But what if “the one” has children living at home. What if they are in the earliest years of their teens? What if they are preteen? It was hard enough being a step-dad to an independent little seven-year old who thought she owned the world. Would my almost fifty year old heart survive another decade of being thought of as the worst things since 93X became the Edge?
If you get that reference…kudos to you!
I was really thinking that my days of having a child storm off while screaming at the top of her lungs about how unfair life was, and then slamming My door in my face, were long gone.
Will there be a relapse?
I love my children, and wished I could have been a better father. But the prospect of starting over, but this time with children who will likely have a much less stern father as an example…uggggggg!
What if he let them swear at him, tell him off! What if…he negotiated for their good behavior?
Maybe I shouldn’t be looking for woman my age. Maybe I should find a cougar, a sugar momma. Hell, I have been taking care of woman my whole life, why can’t one take care of me. She can provide me with all the nicest things in life, and I will spend several hours a day in my office, working on my writing career.
This working shit is overrated anyway.
Is there a Website, CourgarsForGreatGuysWithDreams.com?
Well, if there was, it wouldn’t matter. Internet dating is turning out to be as difficult as finding Miss Right in an 80’s Glam Metal bar.
But with far less spandex, oh the spandex, at least there was something to look at 😉