My mother is a crackwhore who is in prison for violating the "3-strikes you're out" rule.
My mother died while she was giving birth to my brother.
My mother sold me to these guys for heroin.
My mother left my dad for a much younger guy and didn't take me with her.
What the fuck difference is it to you who my mother is?
I've found myself having to watch what I say more and more recently. These kids, damn them. They're like parrots, except for you can understand them and they're not quite as colorful. There was a time when I took great joy in fucking with people's heads when they would see me with the boys by myself and ask me questions about their mother. The questions seem a bit innocuous at first, but if you peel back the layers, the questions are really about being a Ms. Kravitz.
When I took Adrian to get his fourth or fifth hair cut the Asian woman (I ain't stereotyping asshole, she was Asian. Get over it.) cutting his hair said, "Your wife must be vewy (okay, I am stereotyping now) bwave for to let you come get his haircut by yourself". I replied, "I'm not married". She said, "Oh"? I said, "Well, I was married, but my wife died". She gasped, audibly, and then started yickity yakking to some other Asian chick cutting hair next to her. She asked me how she died and I replied, "She died giving birth to our son". PC? No, absolutely not. Funny as hell? You betcha.
I say these things as shock value, because it's none of your fucking business where my child's mother is. How very presumptuous of you to even assume there is one. I FUCKING HATE when we go out to eat as a family and the hostess, waitress, beer wench, whomever, comes up to the table with the flare on his/her pocket and says, "Hi hunnnnn. Is it dads night out tonight"? NO! IT'S FAMILY NIGHT you dork.
Over the last four years I've made up various things about the boys mother depending on what type of mood I am. I rarely would say, "Oh, the little bastards are adopted" and just leave it at that. I always liked to shatter the notion that mother's are inherently infallible and required for the rasing of healthy, well-adjusted children.
On the bus one afternoon a woman said to me, "Your wife must be very lucky. I see you picking up the kids every day. I think you're going to have a VERY good father's day". Well, to most of you, that may seem complimentary. But to me it says this woman thinks most father's are disconnected douche nozzles who don't do anything more than fuck their wives while they're asleep as to further perpetuate their seed…oh, and drink beer. IF I was a "traditional" dad, I'd be offended by this "niceness". How very dare you assume that I go above and beyond the call of my "fatherly obligations". I told this well meaning woman, AGAIN, that I didn't have a wife. She looked at my finger to confirm. She got all giddy and happy. And I said, "Yeah, that darned 3-strikes law. She was a little too close to the school during her last sale and we're not expecting her to get out for a while". Adrian looked at me, confused.
I've decided it's probably time I stop fucking with people's heads while my children are around. The last thing I need is for him to repeat his "origin story" to his teacher at school while the class is discussing "family".
So for the record people, here's the story on my children's mother. Don't ask me again. M'kay? There ain't one.