I was gone alot yesterday and thought there was a chilly wind when I got home. The chill in the air was confirmed by an email I got at work this morning:

"Since you have made it clear that in your opinion I serve as D's parent only by your graciousness and whim, please observe the following:

I am switching to Wednesday yoga. You will need to pick D up from karate.

You do not have permission to touch me in any way.

Don't e-mail me and ask me how I am or how my day is going, etc, please limit your communication to needs of the household, and D"

Well that's nice. It hurts like hell. The "I'm going to melt into a sobbing puddle" hurt. I haven't responded in any way. PMA? ha!

Last edited by stubborn; 03/27/07 07:10 PM.
I have a shovel and I'm not afraid to use it.
Stubby