I hate returning home after four days away. I don’t dislike the absence, but the laundry, cleaning, litter pan scooping and catch-up of ordinary tasks are irritating. In all my annoyance, I know I lead a charmed life. I could be cleaning up the remains of my house after a hurricane, or sifting through the rubble of an earthquake in search of my single government allotted child, in other words, I’ve no valid right to complain. Yet, I have spent nineteen hours digging a hole in my front yard, and I am sore and irritable.

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Mister Hombre and I have had an ongoing argument discussionsince last June. The Mister’s son was getting remarried, and the argument entailed whether or not I would attend the nuptials. I get along well with the Mister’s son, and I think his new beloved has been a positive influence on him. Since their involvement, I have watched the Mister’s son grow. He is becoming a man with many admirable qualities, like his father.

I have never met the Mister’s ex-wife. Sure, there have been half a dozen near misses in the course of living in the same city for nine years, but no direct contact. There was no reason for formal introductions. The Mister’s kids were grown when we met, so it isn’t like I would be a co-parent. I did not wreck her home, though I was involved with the Mister before his divorce was final.

My life was delightfully quiet before I met Mister Hombre. It changed quickly. Remarkably, people you’ve never met soil your reputation before you make eye contact with them. From in-laws to outlaws. I’ve been glared at, gawked at, trash-talked and cliched. Classy.

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Having not met the Mister’s Ex, I don’t consider myself to be in a position to call her character into question. The only things I know of the woman, is she makes an ass-kicking buttermilk fried chicken, she has health issues, and they affect her capacity to cope and reason. Not exactly enough information to pass judgement.

When the Mister’s son married the first time, I received a mailed invitation. Later, I received a message from the son delivered by Mister Hombre requesting I not attend because it was after all his wedding day, and he wanted it to be a happy occasion. I complied and even helped the Mister prepare the rehearsal dinner, and fled rapidly before the guests arrived.

It was a different time and I don’t harbor any resentment. The Mister’s divorce had been final a few months, and I’m not one to insert myself into someone else’s drama. The ceremony was a happy occasion, but the first marriage….was unfortunate.

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Shortly after Engagement 2.0 was announced, I told the Mister I wouldn’t be attending. It wasn’t about the previous un-invite. I still had not met the Mister’s Ex. Am I the only who thinks it is grossly inappropriate to meet an emotionally unstable Ex for the very first time at her son’s second wedding?

Weeks would pass without the subject being discussed, then it would come up again. The Mister would push for compromise, but fuck me, there was no compromise. There was either me conceding or him. And so the discussion went…..for months. I have compromised conceded many times where his complex family relations were concerned. I could recite a laundry list of occasions where I put everyone else’s comfort ahead of my own, but it would be pointless to recite it now, because I have put it behind me.

Finally, I threw the Mister a bone. I told him if it was important enough to his son and beloved I attend, and they contacted me directly, I would be there….

continued