I hate to complain, I really, really do. I wholeheartedly believe that the more I complain, the worse I feel. So I try not to do it. But, as usual, to no one's surprise, my disgraceful daddy-o has managed to get me bitching again. Score one for dickhead.
I don't have the energy to go into specifics. We haven't had any contact since his last major retard move in August of last year. All of a sudden I am getting gifts for the girls in the mail. Stupid gifts. They are BABIES mister!!!! What the hell does Ellie need a stamp collection for? She ain't gonna write letters to you. The only thing she'd want to do with stamps is eat them. By the way, her name is ELLIE. Not Leah, not Eli, not Elle....
Sad. I'm done. Again.
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