Fragments of a Broken Home

So yesterday I was meant to have my son - he turned up and I asked his mother what was happening, is he having a sleepover, or are you picking him up later like you had said you would, as we spoke about me taking him to school.

Since moving schools I don't know where it is, where the school is or who his teachers are...

She told me that if I didn't know what was happening I should ask follow-up questions, well yeah I did, she just doesn't know how to communicate...

She left, and then my son asked again if we could go out, as I was like dude it's 5pm, nowhere is going to be open, let's just chill and watch a movie..

He then stormed out of the room and into his playroom. About 2 seconds later my front door opens, it's her storming back into the house to take him away, as she's pissed off...

No, I shouted because I thought my son was going through the front door, running away.

So she then told my child that I'm a prick and they left..

I don't care about being called a Wanker, Dick, a Prick or worse.. don't do it in front of my child when I could say the real reason we broke up is you had an affair with someone he called Uncle Dan..

So yeah, you're tarnishing me with the brush of being an arsehole to our child to make yourself feel better - yet it's me that loses out.

Had she just left, it would have been fine, but she came back.

The thing that's sitting with me about yesterday is a memory that comes as a flashback from when I would have been 2ish. My parents had quite a turbulent relationship whilst I was growing up. At times they were together and other times they weren't. They're still together now.

The thing that stuck with me yesterday was this. I went to spend a weekend with my dad. He was staying with his parents at the time.

My parents had an argument about something before we left - I'm not sure what about. But when we did leave my mum decided to walk around to my grandparents' house and carry on the argument at their house.

They then argued at my grandparents' house, but the flashback is of my Grandmother stood in their hallway with her arms out waiting to hug me.

Whilst all this is going on I remember my mum having my dad around the throat, digging in her nails, and the police being called with sirens going off in the background.

I don't know what happened after as that's where it stops, but it is that which made me think, what would Rupert think of what happened yesterday? Nothing physical happened, just raising of voices, but it's going to be an image that sticks with him no doubt.

And I think that's probably why this has bothered me more than just being called a prick.

Because apparently kids remember more than you think they do.