Shiny tires and cheese sandwiches...

While we were out yesterday, Derek decided to get the car washed. We went through one of those drive-thru things, and Ella squealed with delight as the foamy brushes slapped against the car and the water splashed down over the windows. After that we picked up Dillon from school.

As I got back into the car Derek asked, "Did they put on the tire-shine?" "I didn't really notice," I said, thinking that was the end of the matter. But no. As we drove to what for most people should be a nice, enjoyable dinner out, he started his attack: "So you didn't see the tires when you got back into the car, is that what you're telling me? You're saying that you're so clueless, and BLIND, that you didn't see if the tires have the tire shine or not? That's what you expect me to believe?" "YES," I said sternly, "I did not notice the tires. I think they were shiny, but I can't promise you that." "You can't promise me that. Humph. Unbelievable. What a stupid person. Doesn't even see a simple thing like a tire," he scoffed. "Hey," I retorted, "If it was so important to you, you could have gotten off your ass while I was in the school and checked for yourself!" I said, finally succumbing to his efforts for a fight. I mean, seriously, how many times can you hear yourself being called 'stupid' and 'idiot' and all the rest of it; unless you have no self-worth left, it's damn hard to stay quiet, believe me.

For the moment he left it. "So what did you have for lunch today, Dillon?" he asked in a nice tone, I guess trying to change the subject, thankfully. "Fruit and cheese sandwich.:" Dillon answered in his little voice. "What?" Derek asked, "Fruit and cheese sandwich," Dillon repeated. "Fruit and WHAT??" Derek came again. At this point I knew what would happen, from experience: Dillon would become confused that his answer is somehow not the correct one because his daddy is getting angry, and Derek would indeed get angry with Dillon for not answering in whatever way he wanted. And that's what happened. "Speak up, damnit!" Derek yelled to Dillon. "FRUIT AND CHEESE SANDWICH!" he said loudly. "Don't you yell at me, you brat! What do you think!" he started in on Dillon as we barreled down the highway. "Hey!" I interjected, "he's answered you three times now! Leave him alone and stop your shouting!"

But this comment sent him into a rage. As we drove, he screamed so loudly that the car windows shook. "I'VE SO HAD IT WITH YOU, STACEY!!! GOING AGAINST ME IN FRONT OF MY KIDS!!! I WON'T HAVE IT, I'M TELLING YOU!!!! WHAT A HORRIBLE PERSON YOU ARE! WHAT A SHIT WIFE! YOU'RE NO GOOD, STACEY!!! AND WHEN I KICK YOU OUT AND YOU'RE CLEANING TOILETS AT WAL-MART THAT WILL BE TOO GOOD FOR YOU!!!"

Dillon and Ella of course had to endure this from the confines of their car seats, as the screaming continued.

In between the screams directed at me of how all of this was my fault, how it's always my fault and how everything "wrong" with the children is my fault, I was overcome with calm, because this nut-case was so out of control. Very quietly I said, "Look at you, you're completely out of control," YELL YELL, SCREAM SCREAM!!! "You're screaming right in front of your kids, how can you do that." BLAH BLAH!!! YAAAA OOOUGGGAAAA!!!!!!! YELL SHOUT SCREAM!!!!!! "Wow. You're really out of control. You need to get a hold of yourself and calm down."

Somewhere between the next traffic light where he screamed at two cars and the restaurant parking lot, where he yelled out the window to an old lady for not moving fast enough, he had gotten this rant out of his system. Dillon, who was sadly used to this by now, sat quietly and all I could do is look back and wink at him, and he winked back, with a little smile that we exchanged after these times, to say, "I'm okay, you okay? Yeah, I'm okay too."

As we entered the restaurant, passing other people, I thought, "Geez, I've just been battered. Really. I've just gone through one hell of a beating. And so have my kids, indirectly. It feels no different than if there were bruises all over my body right now, for everyone here to see. But there aren't. So in we walk, just like every other family.

Things were calmer now, so as we waited for high chairs I tried to bring up something positive. "Hey Dilly-bear, why don't you tell daddy about your presentation you made at school today?" Dillon was instantly excited and ran to daddy's side, "Daddy, daddy! Today at school I -- " "Not now, Dillon," his father said, without even making eye contact. Dillon was crushed. With his head down he came back to my side, looking absolutely heart-broken. That jerk had cut him off, hurt him, and dismissed his words as unimportant, and I had sent him into it. Damn him.

As we took our seats Dillon started to cry. "What is it!" Derek demanded. "You made me sad, daddy," Dillon said bravely. "Oh shut up," he replied, "it wasn't the right time to talk and besides, life is tough, and you'd better get used to it!"

That was all he had to say on the matter. Letting little Dillon, three and a half years old, 'get used to it.' I wanted to scream, but it would only make things worse. I knew that since my mind is made up of what I'm doing, there's no point in starting another round of fighting for the children to endure. "Dillon," I said in front of his father, "It was very nice that you wanted to share with daddy and I'm very proud of your presentation today, good job!" He smiled at me and nodded, but the joy of telling daddy was gone. he was brave, though and using the only weapon he could think of, he told us about a pretend party he's going to have: "Mommy, you're comin' to my pa-tee and Ella, you're comin' to my pa-tee, but daddy's NOT comin' to my pa-tee! Daddy, you're NOT comin!" Good for you, I thought, I wouldn't invite him to my party, either, son of a bitch.

Derek didn't entirely understand what he said, and I wasn't about to throw him under the bus. Instead I took Dillon to the bathroom. I gave him a big hug and had my all-too-often talk with him about how the way daddy acts is not okay. But that won't work much longer. Dillon sees that daddy acts badly but he somehow gets away with it. And it's starting to impact the way Dillon expresses himself at school.

That's the great mystery of these abusers. Who ever thought that shiny tires or cheese sandwiches or school projects could start this kind of horror? You never see it coming, all you know is, it's coming.

Today is of course another day. And more to discuss tomorrow.

Until next time, dear friend...