The Kid Factor…
Friday’s breakup film went out of the window. Firstly, I was pissed off. Secondly, I went to a concert and had a rocking time instead.
Why was I pissed off? Well, One Ball and I had plans this weekend. We were going to hang out on Saturday night, and because I had the entire day off work, we were going to have a picnic on Sunday, weather permitting. If the picnic was called off because of bad weather, we were going to spend the day together doing something else instead, perhaps dinner, walking, talking, ice skating, whatever.
Anyway, he cancelled. One of his kids was sick, and the mother had called him to ask for help with the other ones while she was in the hospital with the sick one. I do understand that I have absolutely no right to be angry about the cancelled plans, especially as he’s been honest about having kids from the start, but it still irked me a bit. And if we’re being honest, he’s only been half-honest about his kids. He actually lied about how many he had at the beginning, starting with three, then four, then five. He said that he lied because women kept laughing in his face when he told them about his FIVE children, but it’s still a super shitty thing to do.
I decided it was time to tell him my story. About how kids were a big thing for me and I’d spent the majority of my life trying to avoid men who already had them. I’m not great with children, I’m not overly bothered by them, and I’m not interested in having them in my life. I couldn’t have cared less whether he had three kids, five kids, or a hundred kids; they were a LONG way off being in my life, and he should never have lied. We got over it, I forgave him, and we’ve stumbling along just fine ever since … ish.
I know I’m selfish and getting angry over the cancelled plans is a tad out of order, but this is exactly why I don’t date guys with kids: I hate being cancelled on! I’m flaky and always late for plans, but I’m a hypocrite. I hate to be left waiting, or cancelled on when plans have been made. Our cancelled plans now mean I have nothing to do this weekend. No work, because I cleared my schedule for him … and I’m not getting laid.
Perfect. Eyeroll.
Up until now, his kids haven’t bothered me. He spends two weekends per month with them, which means I get two weeks out of the month to do whatever it is that I want to do with him. I don’t have to meet them because they live a long way away from me. This weekend was the first weekend that his kids played havoc with my life, and if I’m completely honest I don’t really like it much.
At my age, the men I date having kids is something I’ll probably need to get used to, but that doesn’t help me right now. What do I do about this? How much do I really like One Ball? We’re on the same page about a few things, but not all the time and definitely not with everything. But the sex is undeniably fantastic. He even said to me:
“I want to treat you like a princess and fuck you like a whore!”
Could this guy be any more perfect for me? He’s funny, smart, cute (his looks are definitely growing on me), kind, great in bed, has a perfect cock and has the best smell EVER. All those good points and five big negatives … his kids.
I’m not perfect and I do know that. He’s a non-smoker and I’m still trying to quit. Maybe he’ll be the encouragement I need to finally kick the habit for good?
I just don’t know what I want to do about this guy. I do like him, but I’m not sure if we are more “friends with benefits” than actual relationship material. I know one thing, though: I’m going to need to make up my mind … and pretty damn fast. He’s already told me that he thinks he’s starting to fall for me. He was offered a move with work, somewhere that would take him closer to where his kids live, and he said no — because of me. He wanted to stay closer to me, to get to know me, to fall in love with me.
I think I gotta make some decisions, peeps.
Photo by Ryan Wallace on Unsplash
