My ex texted me last night wanting to know when I’d be picking up Jackson today (because spring break). I give him the options: either early or late because of work. He chooses early. We agree upon a time.
I arrive right at the agreed upon time. Guess who is still asleep? Guess who isn’t ready to go? Guess who got to pound on the door for five fucking minutes? Oh and call him over and over again to wake him up.
I fucking hate co-parenting.
But, on the other hand, shit like this is exactly why we got divorced. Because I can’t even with this bullshit.