Harridan Hell

I never realised what an absolutely perfect ex-wife I am.  Some could say that is because I’ve been an ex-wife so many times; but I don’t think so.  I think it is just that I'm a rather rational human being and when you break up, both parties want and need to move on.  I was fair in asset splits and I walked away, let it go.

I spent my 46^th birthday on a farm with ex-husband number 1. 

He didn’t think I was a harridan; we were just too young and too stupid to make a marriage work.  Husband number 2 would tell a different story although he did run off to the Gold Coast with his girlfriend when I was about five months pregnant with my daughter.  This puts him in “scum of the earth” category, so what he thinks doesn’t really count as far as I’m concerned.  But hey, I didn't kill him either - that was reasonable in my books!

Husband 3 and I did our own settlement and divorce.  Hell, we went to the courthouse for the divorce and then went out for lunch.  Very civilised; but we had decided a long time ago that our son was more important than anything else.

So please explain why some men get utter harridan’s as ex’s.

I have two brothers.  Both divorced.  One did ok; managed a reasonable relationship after.  Reasonable in my book is polite.  Ability to attend functions that you must.  Discussion when there is issue.  Brother two did not so well.  His ex-wife, affectionately known to the family as the “fat, brown toothed, slut” is just plain evil.

Now I am in nut case hell with the squeeze's ex-wife.  And trust me, she is a can short of a six pack.  A sandwich short of a picnic.  A screw loose.  A window licker.  Loopy.

We are all packed and ready to go to happy camping land and the squeeze calls me to say that he was on the receiving end of an hour long tirade with the harridan depicting what a lousy father he is (lousy because she refuses to answer the 54 calls so he can speak to his son).  Then it is on to parenting skills - and this from the moron that made him sick with her hillbilly ideas on evil penicillin!  Then we move into making demands on things to the point where we are now at a loss to work out how we get to go camping.  I don’t intend to drive two cars because she has decided that she will take number 2 son’s car while he is in Vietnam.  As he had a towbar, we were taking it.

The squeeze doesn't think it is worth the argument.

Frankly, I’m going to put it in writing now.  How the squeeze does not knock this bitch on her arse is literally beyond me.  It is exhausting!  And I am trying not to let it bother me; but as per now; her utter unreasonable tantrum throwing bullshit affects my life too!  Because suddenly all our plans have to be reworked.

How on earth I’ll survive down there with a one week cross over and not tell the bitch what I think is beyond me really.

Then again, maybe that is what she needs.  And he sure as hell is too moodle-ish to do it.