Page 56 of Midlife Woes (Ex)

Her dad gets very offended if her shit isn’t gender appropriate. For a man who kicked up a stink about not wanting daughters, I think he must have a brain tumor or something because he’s made a complete one-eighty.

I keep telling him we no longer live in those times, but his catchphrase these days is, I don’t give a fuck. If it’s not pink, frilly, or has some frou-frou shit on it, she can’t wear it. We tested him once and put her in one of her brother’s outfits and he took one look, didn’t say a word, but took her upstairs to change her into one of her little dresses.

He tries to do the same shit with Savanna, and I stay out of it because she encourages his mess. She’s a girly girl until it comes time to kick some ass. According to her, if her bonus dad wants to spoil her with jewelry who is she to complain?

He's been walking around here like a bear with its paw caught because of his father. Now, I don’t know how I got this lucky, but because Dalton gave me a beach house, Dennis thought it only fair that he gave me a chateau in Aspen as a thank-you for giving him and his wife seven grandkids at once. I’ve never skied a day in my life, but the kids love the idea.

I stay out of their arguments because I don’t understand this kind of largesse. A nice necklace would’ve sufficed, but I’m surrounded by nuts. Since we didn’t need another house, Damon’s idea was to get me Liz Taylor’s diamond and emerald Bulgari necklace and earrings. When I saw the price, I almost flatlined.

“You need to stop.”

“What did I do?”

“What’s all this?” I looked over at the mess he had delivered.

“I noticed that the boys don’t let Dabria play with theirs, so I got her one.”

“Damon, sweetheart, that’s a lie. None of them are old enough to get on those rocking horses. Tell the truth.”

“Isn’t it cute?”

“Why does she need a crystal-studded rocking horse that she’d probably only use a handful of times?”

“Those aren’t crystals.”

“You….”

“You just need something to bitch about, right? Your life too easy? Here.” He gave me the big ass bag. I didn’t see him drop on the floor because I was busy pumping like Elsie.

“What’s this?”

“Open it when you’re done. I’m gonna go see the babies after I wash up.”

My kids used to roll around in mud from sun up till sundown. His precious babies change clothes at least three times a day. He has the staff well trained because the one time I tried to tell them they didn’t have to change my son after a little spit-up, the lady acted like I put her in front of a firing squad.

Once I got the hang of how Mussolini ran his ship, I learned to keep out of the way. Damon would fire these poor people at the drop of a hat. If they sleep on the job, he’s understanding, especially if one is filling in for another, because he knows first-hand how tired they can get. But let someone yell at one of his kids, and it’s a quick exit. Wait until he starts doing some yelling of his own.

When the girls come over, we no longer have to find something to watch. I’ve got recordings, what I call Damon’s greatest hits, of the shit he does between the last time they were here and now. It’s better than any comedy show in existence, that’s for damn sure.

They especially like his little clipboard that he walks around with, ticking off stuff at the end of the day. I don’t know how he keeps it up, but he does try. I guess being on a professional team, he’s used to routine.

I looked over at the eyesore he just brought home, the rocking horse, and shook my head. I don’t even want to Google the price later because that always gives me indigestion. It’s only October, and he’s already talking about their Xmas gifts. I get tired just listening to him.

But I have to say, he has made this experience one I will never forget. I don’t know what he read or who he listened to, but I’m thinking it was mostly Carl. But he goes above and beyond anything I could’ve imagined from past experience.

He remembers to give me special time. I’ve been to the spa about five times since I came home with the babies. Twice with him and three times with the girls so far. When I see other moms complaining in mommy groups, I feel so ashamed of how good I have it.

He's obsessed with me not getting overtired or being sad. He’s been on the lookout for PPD since the day I gave birth, and there’s always some new gift or something each time I turn around. Have you ever met a woman who was tired of getting gifts? Every time I think I’m there I realize I could handle one more.

Always thoughtful, always mindful. But I know since meeting his Mom that he gets his patience and heart from her. When you think about it, Kevin’s mother was Beelzebub’s bed wench, while Damon’s Mom is in line for sainthood. I lucked out the second time around in more ways than one.

* * *

DAMON

* * *

My wifeand her posse keep giving me shit for the things I do, but I know that one day she’s going to look back and thank me. What they don’t seem to realize is that I love this. I love every minute of it. Not only because I get mad props from the guys, but because as soon as I hit my driveway my heart fills with this feeling of immense joy that not even the championship ring gave me.

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