One of the most frustrating and annoying things about being a Girlfriend Mom (and there are many) is the part in the show where my objections for this thing or that thing, fall on deaf ears.
My boyfriend bought his son, against all of my concerned and acute protestations, a mini Cross Bow complete with arrows as well as an automatic pocket knife for Christmas. Ho, Ho, are you friggin kidding me?! When we first laid eyes on these delicious and safe items at the trashiest flea market in the state of New Jersey a few months back, it took my boyfriend several attempts to even activate the automatic spring which opens the switchblade. His son couldn’t do it at all. But definitely buy it for him. Maybe he’ll mangle one of his fingers so he’ll never play the violin again. He doesn’t actually play the violin but isn’t my boyfriend going to feel like a sack of shit if one Spring day his son decides that he wants to learn but now he can’t because he only has three fingers!
Oh, and my boyfriend informs me that the knife is self cocking. You know what else is going to be self cocking? That’s right, you and your eight fingers because in teaching your son how to work the goddamn knife, chances are you’re going to slice off some of your fingers in the process (I saw how nimble you were at the store) and I’m boycotting your stupid and irresponsible purchases by denying you any and all forms of cocking.
The child is fourteen and we live at the beach. What for fuck sake is he hunting that he needs a Cross Bow, mini or otherwise? When did a Cross Bow become a toy? When I was a kid, it was called Archery and I learned how to work a bow and arrow in summer camp. Come to think of it, we also took Riflery. I was nine. Okay, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. The point it, I was supervised. What the hell happened to Nerf? I can just see Victor’s son and his little friends taking target practice at each other (because they saw it on Tosh.O or Jack Ass ) or at poor and innocent Bambi.
I am apoplectic over this. It doesn’t matter what I say because my opinions mean diddly squat. When I asked my boyfriend what possessed him to buy these weapons, that he had refused to get the last two times we were all at the skank mart, (I have got to stay home from now on) he said that he got them because his son really wanted them. I had a fit. Kids want guns and fast cars, does that mean that you buy them a suped up turbo charged Maserati and put a Glock in the glove compartment next to their AAA membership card? I told him that he’s not his sons friend, and that I didn’t think this was good parenting. I was working on instinct folks because as you know, I don’t have children of my own, and I don’t know how this shit works. I thought he was being irresponsible. He didn’t flinch. I felt proactively ignored by him and swept into a corner. Wait for it. All together now, “And no one puts Dani in a corner.”
I have no idea what other couples do when one parent wants to buy something for their child that the other parent (or Girlfriend Mom) thinks could kill them, an innocent bystander or a raccoon. But unlike other parents, who supposedly have equal say in what they put in the hands of their children, I do not have that luxury. I am not one half of the dynamic parent duo. I am not the biological mother. I am not a Stepmom. I have a voice but my boyfriend can decide whether he wants to listen to that voice, because he will ultimately have the final say. And those them there are the facts.
I do not like being ignored, nor do I like to feel less than. But this is when I must let go, because it is not within my control, and ultimately it is not my responsibility. My boyfriend will take responsibility for his actions, and it’ll be between him and his ex-wife. I wonder how she’ll feel about her son acting out The Hunger Games in their back yard.
