My ex-husband, God bless him, was a douche bag. He put his career first, his mistress second, fantasy football third and coming in a distant fourth was his family.
That said, I must confess that there are days that I come home and miss the selfish bastard. Three and a half years after our "Black October" my brain knows that it is not him I miss anymore. Though my heart misses having someone to come home and share the victories of the day with I’ve become accustom to the adult… Continue