Thursday, January 21, 2016

That Time My Sister Was Ready For a Fight

Linking up to Mama Kat's Writers Workshop today. The prompt is to write something inspired by the word "fight."

That's an easy one for me. But I have to warn you that there are a few F-bombs in this post. I thought about watering down the language a bit, but that would mean watering down my sister and I just can't write her any different than she is.

I started to write this, then realized this was a story that required some wine to tell. So now I'm back with my third glass and can begin.

Quote about alcohol and story telling


As a matter of fact, this story all started with a bit of drinking. Mostly by me. A little by my sister.

It was about 9 years ago and my youngest sister (not the one I was drinking with) was pregnant and asked me to be her birth coach. She was having a home birth and my second child was a home birth so I wanted to show her the video tape.

I remembered that my ex-husband had mentioned a long time before that he had the tape. I have no idea how he got the tape. I doubt in his hurry to leave me to be with the girl he met on the Internet, that he thought, "Oh yeah, let me just grab that birth tape and bring it with me for movie night with my new girlfriend."

Maybe he asked one of the kids for it years later, I don't know. What I do know is that I wanted it back. So I called him and asked for it. He said no, he wanted to make a copy of it first and he didn't know when he would get around to it.

Why in god's name would he want a copy of it? He was barely in it. I was the star of the show. I'm the one walking around butt naked in it. It was my sweat and grunts and tears and...naked ass in it! Why would he need a copy?

Really, what bothered me wasn't so much that he wanted a copy, but that he wouldn't give it back to me when I asked for it. He was just being difficult. So we had some heated words back and forth and he made it clear he wasn't giving it back to me anytime soon.

I was HOT! It takes a lot to make me angry, but I was over the top with frustration, anger, and outrage. I knew I was overreacting a tad, but there it was.

Little Darla knows how to get mad

But there was more to the story. There is always more to the story when emotion is involved.

You see, we had been married 12 years and for at least the last 10 of them, I suspected my ex was having affairs. I would straight out ask him and he would deny it. Again and again. We finally divorced with him never admitting to all those years of suspected infidelity.

Fast forward to a few days before the birth tape conversation with him. We were having another telephone conversation about something to do with the kids and I don't remember how it started, but he admitted to me that he was not a model husband when we were married. That's code for "boinked everything in a skirt."

So I was hurt. Oh, I knew deep down (in that place inside you that you try never to go), even while I was still married to him, that he wasn't faithful. But to hear him finally admit it brought back all the misery and heartache I felt when we were married, with the added bonus of newly confirmed betrayal.

And for him to add to all that hurt by not doing me the simple favor of handing over the birth tape when I asked for it was just too much to take.

Goldie Hawn knows how to get mad

It was about that time I brought out the wine and called my sister. The non-pregnant one.

My sister had been there for me through all the ups and downs of that marriage, and everything else in my life. She's younger than me, but has always been protective of me. Maybe because her personality is stronger than mine. She's not afraid to say what she thinks and stand up for what she believes. She was and still is, my hero.

She came over and listened to my sad tale and the more I whined (and wined) about it, the madder she got. She was ready for a fight.

After listening a while, finally, she said, "Let's go."

"Go where?" I said.

"That no-good-f*cking-motherf*cker is giving you back your birth tape tonight."

"Ok." I said.

And off we went to the no-good-f*cking-motherf*cker's house.

I don't remember what time it was, but it wasn't too late. Maybe 9:00 or so. I knocked politely on my ex-husband's door. No answer. Both cars were in the driveway (his and the Internet girlfriend's) so we knew he was home and him pretending not to be infuriated my sister.

"Oh, HELL no," she said and proceeded to pound on the door with her fist. BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM! "I know you're in there, you motherf*cker, you answer the god-damn door!" she screamed, as she continued to pound on the door. BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM...

He answered the door.

I don't remember the exact conversation but it went something like this:

My sister: Give her the tape!
My ex: No.
My sister: Give her the f*cking tape!
My ex: No.
My sister: Give her the god damn tape you no-good-f*cking-motherf*cker!
My ex: No.

You ever watch the show Cops?  You know those crazy people on there that call the cops for the stupidest reasons and you watch them and think, "Man are you stupid. Get a grip."

I was one of those people that night. I saw that my sister was getting nowhere with him so I actually called the cops. I at least called the non-emergency number, but still.

Here's how that conversation went:

Cop: Hello, Metro.
Me: I need to report a theft.
Cop: Is the theft ocurring now?
Me: Yes. Well...sort of. My ex husband took something of mine a while ago and won't give it back.
Cop: Uh huh. What did he take?
Me: My birth tape.
Cop: Your birth tape?
Me: Yes, a video tape of me giving birth to our daughter.
Cop: Were you married at the time of the tape?
Me:Yes.
Cop: Then it's half his.
Me: But I'm the one naked on it! The tape belongs to the one naked on it!
Cop: (Bitches be crazy.)

The officer was clearly divorced and had something against his ex-wife because I got no sympathy whatsoever from him.

I realized I was not getting my birth tape back that night. Tired and emotionally drained, my sister and I drove home, birth-tape-less. Our only comfort was knowing that we pissed off my ex enough that he wouldn't be getting any sleep that night.

Two days later, my ex sent the tape over with one of my kids.

So what did I learn from this whole sordid story?

This:
Wine is liquid courage
My sister is a bad-ass
When you're angry and hurt and upset, doing something stupid feels better than doing nothing at all (I said FEELS, not IS)
And hide any video tapes you don't want to fall into the wrong hands.

And that, my friends, is what I think about when I hear the word "fight."


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