Well, that didn't well. After tripping over shit (toys, general messiness) in the house for a few weeks due to the Concubine leaving things all over the place and not cleaning up after the MT and the B-Durl, the MT tried to bring his tricycle inside the house and I said, "No, take it around the house". After which the Concubine took the opportunity get loud with me because she told him it was OK to bring it in (which it isn't, whether she said so or not....and I don't give a rat's ass that he was taking it out the front door. We have a gate for that. Use it.) and call me a prick for getting mad. Tilt. Game over. Do no pass Go. Do not collect $200. Take your kids and GTFO. Both Mrs. D-Day and I have been on at our last rope for a few months now and this was just the final straw. The Concubine has had a boyfriend for the last few months and ever since she started dating him her attitude has gone to total shit. Well, now she's his problem
So we don't know what the end result of all this is. The last we heard from the Concubine was that she was going to have the cops at our house to which we said fine; we've already had them over to keep an eye out on the house at night because you're out, we'd like to show them the conditions you had the kids living in, and tell them exactly why they were here. Oh, they could probably tell us how best to proceed with Child Protective Services, too. Needless to say, no cops showed up. I feel bad for the kids as Mrs. D-Day and I were obviously attached to the B-Durl and the MT, but this had to end and end quickly the way it was going. MAF put it best when she said that white trash ain't gonna tan.
Godspeed to those kids, because my guess is that neither one of them is going to have an easy road ahead of them with the piece of shit mother they have. As it is right now, I'm sure we won't be seeing them for awhile, if ever again. The MT is old enough to understand what he's being told, so I'm sure he's being fed a steady diet of how we're the devil and the devil's wife. Next step is to extricate ourselves from all her shit, get back to normal existence. We told her she has until the end of the month to get it or it's all going on the curb (and there is a lot of stuff she has here). Feels good to have my house back and have it quiet again, but there is also a little bit of melancholy and worry with relation to the kids.
Where the hell am I going? And what the hell am I doing in this handbasket?