A Musical Interlude

Recently, I broke down and gave my son the link to this blog. He's about to start married life himself, so I figured he's old enough to know things.

Shortly after I was divorced, I made the decision to keep my dating life and my kids separate. Until he read it here, he had no idea. I always wondered if he ever had any idea that I was dating. He assured me he did not. It is true that your kids don't think of you in that way.

Shortly after moving to Orlando, all three of them decided that it was up to them to get me paired off with a female, and they began the conspiracy to pick their favorite. Naturally, they did not bother to ask me what I wanted, so that failed miserably. It was like having two little Angies living in my house. The notable exception was, and still is, the youngest.

Last year, Katherine called and asked me what I was doing for my birthday. I told her I had a fine evening of chair sitting and television watching planned to commemorate the event. That would not do, so she said she was taking me and the girl out to dinner. When I arrive home from the office, she was already there with the young girl child, age 14.

As we drove to dinner, my mom called to wish me a happy birthday, and warble the song intentionally off key so as to drive me nuts. It's a tradition. As I was speaking to her, I was half-listening to the conversation on the other side of the truck.

Apparently, the daughter made her feelings known to Katherine about the prospect of my providing her with a step-mother. "He can do whatever he wants after I go to college. I don't want any other women in the house until I only have to visit them."

As you would expect, this revelation took the focus off mom's call. As I listened to the back and forth between Katherine and my daughter, I began to understand. She wasn't interested in me getting back together with her mother. That was met with an emphatic "NO!" But, she completely interested in needling Katherine as much as possible.

There are points in your kid's lives when you start to figure out just from which parent they get their sense of humor. This was one of those times. She had mine, and she was busily abusing Katherine with it.

It was a good birthday.