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Completely Clueless (a.k.a. PDD’s father) had some consequences come home to roost today. A Federal Marshal showed up at my house looking for him and I quickly told him he has not lived here for two years. The warrant was for non-payment of child support (no, not to me, but to his first wife for their two children, known here at Big Sis and Big Brother.) $35,605 cash bond.

You know how you think you’re over something or someone, and then something happens and you’re crushed all over again? That’s not happening here. For a long time, I prayed for this day so the SOB would get what was coming to him. Interspersed in that time were days when I dreaded this happening, because I would surely come undone if he was taken away.

Today, I feel bad, not for him, per se, but for our daughter. Her daddy just got hauled off to jail and who knows when we’ll see him again. But how sad is it, in the face of that, that the reality is she won’t be missing much, anyway?

What chaps my ass about all of this is it was COMPLETELY AVOIDABLE. He didn’t have to dodge or half-assed pay his child support for the last 17 years. He could have done the right thing by his children and been both a man and a daddy to them, despite his animosity for their mother. But he didn’t. He didn’t see his children until he met me 10 years ago and I found them for him. Right here under his nose in Tulsa.

When we split two years ago, I told him I wasn’t going to tolerate a bunch of drama out of him and that he was going to both pay child support AND see his daughter on a regular basis. It took me a year to get him to do either, but for the last year, he’s coughed up a whopping $200/month and has taken her almost every other weekend. I’ve had to get in his face a few times, and yes, because he has no driver’s license (DUI several years ago which he’s since ignored and is a part of the charges he’s facing now), I have to do all the delivery and pick up of her back and forth. And if I didn’t do all that, she wouldn’t see him and he wouldn’t be paying any child support on her, either.

The marshal asked me if I knew where he lived, and I told him. I also gave him his cell phone number, the address of his employer, the employer’s phone number and a picture of him. Yes, he could have arrested me for obstruction of justice had I not coughed all that up, but I could have played dumb, too. And I could have called him and warned him as soon as the marshal left. But I didn’t. My days of preventing consequences for him are long over.

My conscience is clear because I could have turned his sorry ass in a LONG time ago, but didn’t. But when asked, I answered – the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

My hope is that for once, he’ll actually have to face the music and realize that the decision making skills he’s used to date landed him there. Maybe, finally, at 40, he’ll catch a clue.

Keepin' it real in the bloggerhood,

Suzanne

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