I can't remember when my parents last seemed to really care about sis and I. I can vaguely remember that it has happened, at some point, but when it was? No dice, anyone's guess. Must have been years and years ago.
It's not so much that they fight, I can handle that. I don't care.
But when it comes to the custody battles, enough is enough. I mean... I have had classmates with divorced parents. Their parents seem to want them. None of these non-custody battles mum and dad have. Of course, my parents would never call them non-custody battles, they've got to keep up the facade, pretend like they're good and caring parents. As if I didn't overhear their arguments. As if I hadn't long ago figured out that they both think we cramp their style, sis and I, and get in the way of the lives they want to be leading. So whatever my parents choose to call them, they're non-custody battles. And dad lost the last one.
After which he got himself transferred to Avelyon, Tragash, just because his latest boy toy lives around here. I know how that goes, too. Buy a nice condo, stay and fuck the guy until he gets boring, tell sis and I to pack our bags and sign the condo over to the boy toy to kill the guilt. I shouldn't have to know these things about my own father, should I?
Anyway, this time around just takes the cake. The new boy toy is a real prize - just like dad to pick someone up at a strip club of all places. Someone who keeps a 270-pound black cougar for a pet, none the less. Much of the time dad's boy toys rag on sis and I, saying that we get in the way, generally not being nice. This one's different. He's taken to trying to make friends with sis and I, as if sucking up to us would impress dad or something! Sis is having a ball, she's actually buying it, but I'm not impressed. I think I liked the hostility better, at least that was honest. And I don't trust his bloody cat.
I call him dad's boy toy when dad's around. It pisses dad off, but the boy toy just brushes it off. I'll still keep on doing it. When dad's not around, I'll call him dad's fucktoy, instead. Usually, he just ignores it, and if he doesn't, he just tells me to mind my language.
Too bad I won't be around for the told-you-so when dad moves on.