Every time I start to begin a sentence with “My ex-husband,” I delete it. In my head it comes out with a deep South Georgia accent, and I just can bear to sound like someone on an episode of Cops. (Although I’m fairly certain that South Carolina appears more often than Georgia does, now that I think about it.)
At any rate…
The guy whom I was formerly married to mentioned that he recently began a new job and started seeing someone. (I will not reveal how old he told me she was, but I will tell you that she is somewhere in between 22-24, and that I’m real, real tired of women being called “cougars” and men being told “well done.”) When I told him I was happy for him, he said, “Was that a sarcastic ‘happy’?” Without skipping a beat, I replied, “No. I want you to be happy and successful in life. Just not too much.”
I said it without thinking, really, and he laughed – which was a relief. Because y’all…I mean that. Call me a bitch (if you must), but while I want him to achieve great things and live a wonderful life – I don’t necessarily want him to be the next Bill Gates.
I’m just sayin’.
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