What I Would Say To You If You Were The Therapists That I Don't Have Right Now But Probably Should Have

So BloodyCumster signed our 9-year-old up for football. Then he paid top dollar for brand new sports equipment which he could've rented for a fraction of the cost. Then he's got the vagina to ask for compensation. My wife, quite aptly, told BC that if he had told us about football in advance, we might have had the opportunity to prepare for such a large expenditure. However, with such short notice and without consultation as to whether it would be best to rent equipment for an ever-growing 9-year-old versus buying top-of-the-price-tag equipment for a boy that won't be able to wear that equipment next year, BloodyCumster would be on his own financially. I love her for that response. She's brilliant.

Then BloodyCumster buys cleats for our 9-year-old. They are cleats that are so slippery on regular surfaces (tile in homes and stores, cement, etc.) that our 9-year-old must walk as if he were traversing ice until he reaches the safety of grass, where he can ambulate normally. So BloodCum tells me that our 9-year-old "must" take flip-flops with him to practices so that he can change into them when he's done and won't slip and fall and hurt himself. In my head, our 9-year-old can just kick the shoes off and walk in the house. However, BloodyCumster feels it necessary to force foothing apparel, so I'm gonna let him do his thing, as he can't force me to do my thing. So my wife and I take our 9-year-old to practice. Everything goes great. We take him to another practice. Everything goes great. And no flip-flops either time.

Then our 9-year-old has a game. He does really well. After the game, BloodyCumster takes our 9-year-old to Target, where he slips and hurts his back and now he is going to the doctor today at 1 to make sure he's okay. He was with BloodCum, not me. I wasn't even aware of the trip to Target until my wife told me about it moments ago.

And here's the funnest part of the whole shindig: BloodCumster calls to tell my wife about our 9-year-old's injury, and the reason for the fall is because he TOLD me that our 9-year-old should wear flip-flops after practice so that he doesn't slip and fall.

Lemme recap for you, in case you missed this (because if you're sane, this will take a second to comprehend):
1. I was not at Target when the slip and fall happened
2. I did not know about the trip to Target where the slip and fall happened
3. Our 9-year-old has never fallen in my presence nor has he missed football practice because of a fall he's sustained while under my care
4. Our 9-year-old was in BloodCumster's care
5. BloodCumster had verbalized understanding of the great possibility of a slip and fall occurring due to the slippery nature of the cleats, even going so far as to making "rules" to prevent such an occurrence

And after all of this, the reason for the slip and fall, according to BloodyCumster, is because I hadn't made our 9-year-old wear flip-flops after practice over a week ago.

I'm at a loss as to what to say.

This is the man who is in charge of our children's care for more than half of their lives. Apparently he is unable to maintain their safety and is unable to provide a sane or logical reason for their injuries. It's like trying to parent with a lunatic who has completely lost touch with reality.

He fell because I hadn't made him wear flip-flops over a week ago??? What kind of bullshit is that??? How about this for more logical thoughts on the matter:
He fell because you bought him cleats that prevent him from walking on any surface other than grass.
He fell because you took him to a store that has not been floored in grass.
He fell because you didn't take him home after the game.
He fell because you weren't watching him closely.

Or maybe you want more neutral reasons:
He fell because gravity works.
He fell because all people fall and it was his time to go down.
He fell because he tripped on something that anyone would trip on.
He fell because his cleats weren't made to walk on slippery retail store flooring.

But BloodyCumster goes for the step-father blame. He goes for the crazy, Hail Mary bomb blame. Giving me more power than I'm deserving of. Completely stripping himself of any responsibility and, therefore, any power to prevent or help the situation. Making him look even insaner than he already looks.

Fuck, this man should have been aborted. What a waste of space.



...at this point in our therapy session, I would hope that you would offer me great drugs that would help me feel better and give me some great mental health treatment so that I could go about thinking differently so that I might use my cognitive therapy in conjunction with my prescription medication to alleviate my anger and frustration. However, you're just a silly blog and suck at writing prescriptions. I would really like some prescriptions right now.
Crap.