a post in which I rage

I am seriously, seriously pissed at the-man-formerly-known-as-Car-man and who shall now be known as Wasband (husband...wasband...get it?)  I only WISH he was "was" and wasn't still-in-the-process-of-becoming-"was".

At any rate, Eldest turns 18 in eight days.  Back around the first of the year, when Wasband still thought he could turn the chickadees against me, he promised Eldest an iPhone for her 18th birthday.  After some angsting, I told her that, yes, if he bought it, I'd let her add it to my plan and I'd pay the extra monthly fees.  She's been looking forward to this for months.

Some time ago, she tried to talk him into getting for her early.  He made noise about me not approving of it.  I checked with him about it and he demanded I put it in writing that he could buy her the phone.  I figured he was just being an ass, and did it.

So today he comes over to pick up Younger because they are going to drive go-carts  this afternoon (Eldest refused to join them).  But Eldest did go outside to talk to him about the phone.  Apparently, he once again suggested I wasn't going to let him buy her the phone--guess he forgot about the writing--so Eldest came and got me.  I told him that it was fine and left again.  I was avoiding a scene with him, so I walked away and didn't witness the rest of the conversation.

Eldest came in crying.  She said that he told her he had other very important things going on in his life and they'd just have to see about the phone.

You know...I really don't know what the hell is up with him...but who tells their kids that they "have something else going on" and make no reassurances about the kid's birthday?  Sometimes I really don't know who this person is and how the hell I stayed married to him for so long.

P.S.  When Younger came home she informed me that he has a car seat in the back of his truck and there were Cheerios all over the backseat. I sure hope whatever woman is entrusting him with her kid realizes that he drives drunk...all the time.  It makes me sick to think about it.

Yea...that's a Cheerio house.  Cheeri--effing-o.