Day five

A sad, sad morning.  Made the kids pancakes and all they did was talk abouit daddy.  I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs “Daddy fucked some other bitch!  Don’t you get that?!?  He is not worth your praise!!!” but I didn’t.  I told them how much he loved them and missed them and would never do anything to hurt them, even though he already had.

The day was spent in another daze, just trying to concentrate on my kids… my wonderful little reminders of the life their father destroyed.  Every night since this all began, we have ritually opened a plastic easter egg with a message from daddy.  Horrifying.  Every single night I have had to be reminded of what a great man he could have been had he not done all of this. 

The only saving grace to today was picking up my sister from the airport, except I decided to take his car instead of mine.  I sat in it, staring at the leather seats and looking for sex stains and dirty underwear.  I could only picture naked bodies rolling around the inside of a car that had previously only ever had my naked body in it.