When it rains Suckitude, it pours.

The Boy Himself got into Massive Trouble at school yesterday. There's been Typical Trouble of late -- (hmmm, what variables matter? what has, what you might call, "changed"?) -- but this was huge. This wasn't, in other words, an acting-out by the soon-to-be-Child-of-Divorce. This was some Next Level Sh*t.

Now for years WAW Herself and I have avoided confronting certain things, engaging in a thorough-going process of rationalization, with respect to The Boy. But things have come (or been brought to) a head, and now they can't be avoided.

WAW's solution, of course, was to email me: "I'll support whatever you decide." And then go to Upstate City for the weekend, while I sat in the principal's office for 45 minutes, hearing the Unhearable.

Oh and then to make a not-so-thinly-disguised inquiry about alternatives to the most likely course-of-action, said COA carrying with it the almost certain promise of her having to pay even more support to Smiley's Person Himself. In other words, she cut right to what's important -- the money.

Nice. mad

But as I drove home -- The Boy silent in the backseat, knowing himself to be Doomed to a lifetime in his bedroom with no teevee or gameboy until he's 100 years old and even after I die I'm going to have myself reanimated to come back as Zombie Dad just so I can keep punishing him (ahh, the rational discourses we have when we're upset with our children!) -- it occurred to me that I didn't care. I didn't care that there wasn't a Team working the issue. That I had no back-up, no support, no one but myself (and Miss Someone, obliquely -- but there is a TMI limit with such Someones after all) to lean on.

And I'm perfectly content with the idea of Handling It (cf, @Coach). I can do it.

So there it is. I don't need her. And maybe that will be a good starting point for figuring each other out again. Maybe not. Either is okay by me.

Damnation. Worst day of my (recent) life -- at least the worst day this week wink -- and my first response, my first intuition wasn't "turn to She Who Loves You -- oh, yeah, you can't, waaaahhhhh cry doesn't divorce suck and oh me oh my."

My first response was: "Hooah! This sucks! So Embrace The Suck. Another opportunity to excel."

Suck, consider yourself Embraced.