The Kid Factor
I’m always suspicious when things go right, because they so frequently go wrong with me. I had a weird feeling that something was going to go wrong with One Ball, and he proved me right with… well, the kid factor. This blog post-slash-confession is a classic example of how fucked up my dating life always is.
Picnics n’ shit
We were meant to meet up, have a picnic, and fuck into the early hours of the morning, or whatever else struck our fancy. He had to cancel, which I was inwardly pissed off about, but outwardly fine. I can always find something to do, but at the same time, I was actually looking forward to seeing him. That rarely happens.
Bits of the story came out. One sick kid. One baby mama who needs help. Another kid running around. Yadda yadda yadda. I offered him any help he needed plus a shoulder to cry on, and wished the kiddo well.
A few hours later, one specific part of our conversation bounced back into my mind.
He’d mentioned too many names.
I mentally replayed the chat, counting on my fingers as I repeated what he’d said, and was left with… well, four kiddo names, not three.
I shook it from my mind. Maybe I’d made a mistake, misheard what he’d said, got a baby mana name confused, or something. It’s not like I pay lots of attention when kids are concerned. I don’t want them. I’d rather date someone who doesn’t have them. I’m trying really hard to remember their names, let alone everything else that comes along with dating folks that have offspring.
Extra, extra
Later that evening, we caught up on the phone. That extra name came up again.
“Is that your baby mama’s boyfriend?” I asked him.
“No, that’s my kid,” he replied.
“What are your kids names again?”
He reeled off names. Four names.
“I thought you had three kids,” I quizzed.
Take a seat, folks. Things are about to get… weird.
OB has four kids, but he lied, telling me that he only had three, because so many women have laughed in his face when he told them about his family.
I genuinely did not know what to say back. Who the fuck lies about their kids?! I might not like kids, but even I wouldn’t lie about them. It irked me so much that I put my phone down, then ignored it for the rest of the night.
This feels like a thing, I can’t get past. Lying about your kids to bag a woman feels like a really shitty move, and it makes me wonder what other lows he’d stoop to.
What the actual fuck?!
Thanks so much for reading my blog today! 🖤
If you’re interested in the One Ball story, you’ll find that right here.
If you’re in the market for something else to read, why not take a peek here:
