Batter Up!

After romanticizing my relationship with the hubby, I met him last night for my nephew’s t-ball game and dinner for my brother-in-law’s birthday.

As a side note, the t-ball game was glorious. I’m not sure if there is anything more adorable than 5 year olds trying to accomplish a game of baseball. It’s great because the team is comprised of girls and boys, who believe that getting the ball is a team effort. Last one on the pile for one ball is the odd kid out. You also learn that people are the way they are from an early age. Take the third base player for the New York Yankee’s last night. I was sitting close to third base when the little punk stirred up a conversation with me. I stared up at him with one eye closed, thinking what’s up with this one? He’s wearing black pants, while the rest of the team has on grey. For a moment, I thought he was sporting a pair of black Ray Bans. It must have just been his persona. Either way, he slurs out “man, this team is slow”, while he has his hand on his hip like a middle-aged sex star. And I could have sworn he gave me a luring look when he spoke. His face a smug grin, a grin no 5-year-old boy should have. The whole time I’m thinking, who’s this kid?

As my nephew rounded second base and came into third, this punk gets the ball and tags him out. A little refresher on t-ball, the kids don’t get out – ever. It’s not allowed. They simply all get a turn at bat, and then a turn out in the field. There is no winning or loosing. Cramming a ball in another kid’s back and then pushing him and saying “you’re out – get outta here”, is completely inappropriate. My nephew looked him as if he was an alien, and then stared up at his dad who was managing the base as well. My sister was sitting next to me and sneered, “I hate that kid, I’ll show him who’s out. Little shit.” No doubt. That little freak is already his 40-year-old self. An ego trip that’ll take him to solitude and bitterness. Somethings are determined early.

Besides this, I was critized by the hubby all night. “You’re so irritable, why can’t you just be more….”. You know why? Because this is who I am. This is who you married! I’m sick of being the perfect person; I’d like to be my irritable self. Which, in my humble opinion, isn’t irritable. I am on the other hand, a shit talker. I know it, but I like it about myself. It doesn’t mean much to me, and I don’t expect people to take me seriously when I do it. It’s just me talking out of my ass.

Now, I remember why things aren’t working. Thank God, I am not insane. Today he called and apologized. He wants us to not speak anywhere from 1 to 6 months before we decide to get a divorce. I agreed on a month, at which time we could talk about what to do next.

I’m relieved actually. It’s not a divorce, but it’s just as close. It’ll give me an opportunity to actually be separated and to see what that’s like. To honestly be without him. No more questions of where I am, no more demanding to know where I spent $10.51 on 2/2/04, and no more push pull. This may not be the full step of divorce, but it is an opportunity to be on my own. I’ll take it, sign me up. I think my 5-year-old self, is saying "Let's play ball"!