Teken: Vahgeen Azzle

So, I just spent the last three days and nights in Green Bay with Mom in intensive care. She was nearly dead. But some long hours, and a game or five of "inflated non-latex glove volleyball" later, she's getting better. Whew.

Anyway, so I get back to Wausau and go visit my kids, whom I missed and hugged furiously. Played together from about 6pm to about 9 or so. Later, I get a call from X asking where I am. "Home", I say, 'cause that's where I was. See, it seems that she didn't get home until around ten last night, so the kids were alone for about an hour. At 9 and 12 years old, they're home most days alone while X is at work.

But noooooooooo, after their hour alone I get a call from what sounds like a drunk, angry hornet. When I tried to reason with her and find out why she was swearing at me, I got a very concise answer: "Bucuzzz yer a Vahgeen Azzle!". Despite the slur and the abruptly ensuing hang-up, I got the translation.

Well there you have it. I bend over backwards to make our divorce as friendly and comfortable for the kids and her as possible. In fact, I'm going bankrupt doing it. She's living in a huge condo with cathedral ceilings and art prints while I'm -- well, not. But I'm a vahgeen azzle.

Super.