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me and my homegirl

me and my homegirl

That’s me and E on Saturday.  Josh and I went to H’s house so we could all carve pumpkins.  Halloween was one of my dad’s favorite holidays so we’re carrying on the tradition.  Only my sister was a raging bitch.  E is 5, almost 6, so it’s not like she could completely do her own pumpkin.  My brother in law cut off the top of one and she started digging out the guts.  She loved it, and that was fine until the time came to carve.  She wanted in on the action and no one would let her.  Except me.

What you see there is quite possibly the ugliest pumpkin EVER.  But she helped.  And she loved it so much that it had to stay at her house.

All she ever really wants is someone to pay attention to her.  And, this just breaks my heart, she’s already figured out that with her mom and dad she pretty well has to get in trouble to get any.

My sister is a pretty rotten mom.  She ignores her girls most of the time, preferring to sit on the couch with her phone or iPad watching tv and playing games.  My mom found out this morning that neither girl has had a bath in a week.  I watched my youngest niece eat cookie sprinkles out of a bowl with a spoon because that’s one of the few foods she’ll eat right now when my sister is home.

H just really never should have been allowed to breed, and that makes me sad.  I knew myself well enough to know that I was not “mom” material when I fairly young and I took precautions.  H had something like 5 or 6 rounds of invitro with no luck and then finally got pregnant when she got drunk on my birthday.  I love my nieces, don’t get me wrong – but they deserve better than my sister.


Josh has been mostly an asshat lately.  He’s still pretty well moody and not wanting to talk.  I finally started getting stuff out of him on Saturday and it’s what I figured – I stopped kicking him in the ass and now he feels lost.  He doesn’t know how to relate to his kid, he doesn’t really want to have anything to do with her anymore, and most expects me to handle looking after her while she’s with us.  He hates his job, he doesn’t make enough money, and – while he will NEVER admit it – he’s totally jealous of how much I make and the raise I’m supposed to be getting.

In essence, he’s miserable with his life and expects someone else to fix it for him.  Sorry, that’s above my pay grade.