Is there something I’ve overlooked today? Some sort of masculine celebration? ‘All men be moody, aggressive neanderthals’ day? Or maybe it’s ‘Male appreciation of PMS’ day?
Maybe I just opened my mouth too soon and jinxed everything.
Where to begin…?
My son has had a few low days. He doesn’t know why. Weird because I recently commented how positive he was, talking about college and his future. Then WHAM he’s low. He messages me earlier to say he’d had a row with his father and wanted to leave his Grandad’s birthday early as he was about to cry.
I tried to give him some strategies and advice, but in the end had to go for him. On the way, I was shouted at by a particularly aggressive white van driver because apparently looking at the on coming traffic and not seeing him beckon me out immediately from the opposite direction, is not a good thing.
I arrived to get my son and we had a one sided conversation. He told me he wanted to go to his female best friend’s for TLC. I dropped him off and went home. I messaged him some encouraging words but, having had no reply 20 minutes later, decided to call to check on him. He was fine and was being subjected to a face mask.
I put the phone down and tried to get my mind off my son by reading for a few blogs whilst waiting for Wildcard to call. After 10 minutes and seeing the time, I checked Messenger to find that he’d actually tried to call me twice whilst I was on the phone to my son. I’d had no notifications.
I called him, and cheerily apologised. After all, we have been getting on really well the last few weeks – every call full of laughter and love. Even though it’s Ramadan, bar the first two days, he’s been great – I even told my sister. Yep, spoke too soon.
He was moody. Couldn’t understand why I didn’t call him back sooner if my call to my son was so short. Didn’t believe that I’d had no notifications. Was passive aggressive for the rest of the call, answering in short clipped answers or being surly. And no, I didn’t get my ‘I love you’. But, according to him, he’s ‘not angry.’
He said goodbye – scowling – and I tried to remember that the first week is always the hardest and he’s probably hangry. And, I’m the same when he doesn’t call back straight away, although perhaps not so passive aggressive.
Within 10 minutes, I heard the front door open and my young son had arrived home with his dad in tow.
Of course, my ex was moody. He showed little understanding of our autistic and AdHd diagnosed son’s inability to cope in social circumstances, even though that’s been the case for 10 years plus. I mentioned his low mood but that was ignored also. I commented that he should know he is like this, to be cut off mid-sentence and be told that ‘he could have at least cracked a smile’. When I asked whether being shouted at was ever going to help put a smile on his face, he ended the conversation rudely and walked out.
I was then informed by my youngest that he’d been told by his Dad that he would meet Wildcard ‘over his dead body.’ Apparently my youngest had mentioned the plan to one day watch a film with Wildcard when they finally meet. OK, perhaps saying that at his paternal grandad’s birthday party was not the best idea, but hey – Wildcard and I are nearly on 3.5 years of relationship.
So all in all, a successful day for the male participants of this mock celebratory day.
And me? I await my last call with Wildcard with bated breath and wonder if you can buy armour against hangry surliness.