OMG! It’s been a hell of a weekend here around the our household. Joshwa’s cousin – we’ll call him ‘G’ as he has a rather distinctive name and I don’t wish to call his attention here as I’ve had enough of him, thank you – is a pot head, a pill head, and – most recently – a distributor of marijuana that is making its way into the hands of teenagers. He’s also a whiny ass who is “accident prone” and likely to sue when he does something stupid and gets hurt at work. He’s also married and has two children and a stepchild. Now, I am a housewife and – hopefully one day – a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) BY CHOICE. We discussed it and I was given the option. He told his wife that she would be staying home with their children. I did not know her at the time or I’d have reminded her that she had a backbone and she could CHOOSE to stay home, or she could CHOOSE to get a job. But whatever, I digress. He told her that she would stay home and he would make the money. Now, cousin G can’t keep a job for more than two years at a time. This is the track record that has been presented by MANY people in his family. The closest thing he has to a long-term job is growing medicinal marijuana in California with an Ethiopian something-or-another church (think Rastafarian, but Ethiopian instead of Jamaican). He goes over and works with them for weeks or months at a time, and then brings back large amounts of weed and then gets shipments.
Now, I won’t lie to you, dear reader, many is the time that I have partaken of the bounty of these trips. And I don’t regret these times, nor will I tell you that it is from my misspent youth, as I think my youth has thus far been well spent. But, I tell you these things as a backdrop for our weekend. You see, while all this is going on, his wife is left at home with her oldest son (now 16) and the two babies (now 7 and 5). Most of that time, they are living off of food stamps and welfare, barely getting by. While he’s out smoking up, she’s inside cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the boys, one of which has a learning disability (she had it diagnosed as a form of Autism, but the signs she claims are from Autism seem to fade if you expect him to behave like everybody else – but that’s another rant, entirely) and tends to be a handful, as boundaries are a new thing for him. Now, Joshwa and I were always as happy to hang out inside, visiting with her and the kids as anything else. We even lived in the back part of the house (it’s the family home with two different sections from when the grandparents were ministers and let people stay in the back) for three months when G first moved to Chicago for a new job and left them all without a car. Now, this job in Chicago was apparently paying pretty good money (he was working on skyscrapers, or something). But he hurt his back and had to have surgery. Well, being the bright individual he is, he would refuse to do his physical therapy for weeks at a time, then suddenly decide he was superman and try doing everything like he did before. No, I did not see this behavior this time, but I’ve seen it plenty of times before from him. In the end he “never recovered”, and they had to return to Mississippi, where he sued his company and won a $50,000 settlement. He also won a settlement with disability.
Now, he’s been on disability for two years. And been to California at least twice to work on a pot farm. His wife finally got a job, against his wishes, and has been the only source of steady income for some time. And yet, she would come home from work and he would not help out around the house (as her 16-year-old son said to me, “she’d walk in, he’d be laying on the couch, and tell her to make him a sandwich”), wouldn’t watch the boys if she wanted to go somewhere (like a bridal shower for a family friend), and was popping pills constantly and “robotripping”. Now, for those of you not hip to the new slang (like I was until this weekend), “robotripping” is where you take a medication for helping you sleep, then fight to stay awake to get the feeling of high or tripping(hallucinations); the name comes from the original over-the-counter of choice, Robitussin.
So, a few months ago, while G was in California, his wife loaded up the three kids and their dog and left. She got a trailer across town (so the boys didn’t have to change schools) and called and told him she was gone. Rather than come home, he stayed “because the ministry needed him”. She split the money left in their bank account with him and took her van. Well, since then, he’s had his mother come down. His mother is crazy. She’s my mother-in-law’s oldest sister (she’s the oldest, mil is the youngest). Anyway, there has been a ridiculous amount of mudslinging (she slept with this guy once after she moved out) and he has convinced (had convinced?) the family that he had quit doing drugs and he’d cleaned everything up, and she was the one being unreasonable now. Except, he hasn’t quit doing drugs – at least not smoking pot, since when we saw him at Christmas he was sitting in the living room smoking it – and there were roaches EVERYWHERE. Now, I’ve had problems with flies off and on, but roaches? NO.
So, she’s getting the paperwork pushed through for a divorce and for sole custody, since he and his mother both have said that if they got their hands on the boys, she’d never see them again. Well, last week, she told me that she was taking the boys to North Carolina this week to spend Spring Break with her family and asked if they could stay the night here so we could see them and they wouldn’t have to make their half of the journey all at once. And, of course, Josh and I agreed. We adore all three of their boys, especially since Josh was living with them when we first met and we used to visit them nearly every weekend when we lived in Hattiesburg.
Well, Friday morning, I get a frantic text from her, telling me that G showed up at the boys school and was trying to check them out. Well, without paperwork proving he was who he said he was, they wouldn’t let him take the boys, and they contacted her. She asked if she could come early, and I told her to come on. Well, G didn’t have our contact information because we had decided prior to all this that we wanted nothing to do with him anymore because of actions when he stayed in our home in Chicago; and we had just changed our numbers days before and made sure that we didn’t give them to G. So they arrived Friday night and we thought all was well. Until G called Joshwa. Repeatedly. He demanded that Josh let him speak with his wife (as if he could make her talk to him, when she wouldn’t answer her own phone!). Josh demanded to know how G got our information and what made him think that she was at our place. He truthfully told G that he had neither seen nor spoken to her. G then proceeded to tell Joshwa that she was at the address to one of the buildings in our apartment complex! He was tracking her! And Joshwa, being the loquacious man that he is, informs G “that’s just fucking creepy”. Well, we worried around it for a while, until she got a text from Sprint letting her know that she was being tracked using Spring Family Locator, using a phone that she had disabled! Apparently he had been tracking her and her son since Wednesday. Well, after much work, we got the Family Locator shut off. And then he calls Josh again after midnight, and Josh tells him we’re in bed and to leave us alone.
Saturday morning, we’re woken up by another phone call from G. In an ominous voice (sure it would have been if we were afraid of him, but come on, not going to happen) he says, “Are you prepared to let me speak with my wife?” Josh tells him no and hangs up on him. Well, the rest of Saturday is blissfully uneventful – if you can call having a 16-year-old, a 7-year-old, and a 5-year-old running around the house “uneventful”, lol. Sunday, we get up and I ride with her to drop her boys off. We return back and we aren’t here 5 mins when she receives ANOTHER text informing her that she’s being tracked! G had his mother call and pretend to be her to get his phone turned back on! So she called Sprint, cussed several people out, and then had his phone completely turned off and their numbers changed. Well, Joshwa arrives home to tell us that G has called him YET AGAIN and said “have you reconsidered?”, at which point Joshwa tells him there’s a good reason that she left him and his behavior this weekend has proven that and that G is never to call us again before he once again hangs up.
So, she made it home…kinda. She’s not staying at her own home (how messed up is that?) because she’s afraid he’ll show up and hurt her. But she’s safe and she’s doing what she’s got to do. But I have to give you this visual that has been helping us lighten this situation. If you’ve seen Blade Trinity, then you know the line where Draco says “Are you ready to die, mother fucker?”. Now, imagine that voice saying “Are you prepared to let me talk to my wife? Mother fucker.” Like I said, if we were afraid of him, it would be terrifying. He’s a big guy – 6’6″ – but Joshwa is 6’4″, I’m 6’1″, he’s 40, he’s a drug addict, and we’re young and healthy. Bring it. Besides, I’m a hell of a lot meaner than he is. ^__^
But, so things are quiet again (I sat here in the living room for nearly an hour not even playing on the internet, just listening). Hallelujah! Lol, now, Joshwa will be here in just a min and we’re going to start one of his off days this week. Nice. Brightest blessings.