Well, That Went Well

Ok, I’m not the sort of person who often speaks her mind in front of people.  I don’t like upsetting people, or offending them.  I guess that’s why I’ve always kept a diary, so that I can write everything down so that I avoid saying it.  But unfortunately that didn’t prevent me snapping a little over a week ago when The Child was with The Ex. 

We met up with Matriarch, and as per usual went to a cafe for a cuppa.  I should have held my tongue, but stress and other stuff got the better of me.  The Ex was busy buying drinks so kind of missed the row (if you could really call it that).  It was a somewhat surreal moment though.  It kind of started with me moaning on about how The Ex’s family made no effort to see The Child, to which Matriarch responded by saying she’d sever all ties with her if that’s what I wanted.  From where I was sitting it didn’t really make sense after what I had said.  I thought I’d been saying that I wanted them to make more of an effort to see her, but never mind.  I like to think I clarified that point in response to her bizarre offer.  I also mentioned how they’d made no attempt to get in touch with me and The Child directly, despite giving them all my phone number, to which Matriarch responded by saying she’d called us loads.  Not on my phone she hadn’t.  I guess I know where The Ex gets his bizarre habit of telling blatant, not remotely convincing lies from.  Hmm. 

I could get into a huge I said, she said thing here, and I probably shouldn’t.  Needless to say I feel ashamed for acting the way I did, and confused by her bizarre responses.  I also now dread seeing any of The Ex’s family again.  Joyous.  How do I get myself into these situations?  I am such an idiot.  Oh dear.  Maybe one day I’ll learn.  Don’t be friendly postmen, and don’t pick fights with The Ex’s family.  Two lessons I have learned this past year.  Hopefully future lessons will be learned before I make a complete berk of myself.  Hmm.  Unfortunately I doubt I’ll be so lucky.  I have way too many cringe inducing memories, courtesy of being so socially awkward.  I try to laugh though, as I'd rather not do the crying thing.  I don’t like crying.  A red puffed up face is not a good look after all, and now I have a bit of self respect, or vanity or whatever, I do kind of care about that I suppose. 

Looking on the bright side however, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble getting The Child back for any of the embarrassment she has caused me over the past four years.  She’ll be cringing on my behalf in no time.  Hehe.