Taking Me For A Ride
I’m a single parent, and I have a beautiful girl who is turning five in August. The past year I have been fighting with the ex that tried to keep my kid away from me. Lawyers aren’t cheap, and being single doesn’t exactly help with my finances. A couple of months ago, I won the lawsuit and I finally got to have my kid at my home again.
For the past few weeks she was saying she wanted a bicycle, but as I was still recovering from the lawsuit bills, I wasn’t able to afford it. This past week, I got my summer bonus which finally gave me the financial boost I needed. So yesterday I finally was able to buy my little girl her bike she wanted so badly. I enjoyed my time with her riding our bikes, but then it was getting time for dinner, which I still had to make.
So we head back home and park the bikes in the backyard. We go inside and I start making dinner. After about 10 minutes, I spot movement in the corner of my eye through the kitchen window—and my heart dropped. I see this kid just casually strolling by with the brand new bike I just got today. I ran to the front door, hoping I’d catch him before he rides away.
I was lucky I did. I yanked the bike out of his hands, and freaked out to him, saying it was mine and he had no right to just walk into other people’s back yards to take things. I was so mad. I forced him to get off my property, and set the bike inside my front hallway, thinking it’s over. Boy, was I wrong. After comforting my little girl, I return to the kitchen to continue making dinner.
15 minutes later, the doorbell rings. It’s the kid and his Evil Mother. EM: You give my boy this bike back! He found it! It’s his! Me: He “found” it in MY backyard! I got it for my MY kid today! You should try teaching your kid some manners, he shouldn’t trespass on other people’s property to take their things. EM: Don’t tell me how to raise my kid! Give me the bike back or I’m calling the authorities!
Me: (laughs) Call them! And I slam the door in her face. By this point, my kid is crying her eyes out, and I get to comfort her again, as she’s thinking she’s losing her brand new bike. Her sobbing finally over, I try continuing to make dinner, yet again. Preparation’s done, I’m about to put it all on the stove, doorbell. I flip out, storm to the door, violently open it, and get ready to just explode into her face.
Guess what, she actually called the authorities. I instantly calm down when I see it’s them and invite one of the two officers inside while the other stays with the evil woman. I explain the situation and show him the box the bike came in, along with the receipt that has my name on it. He shrugs and apologized for the inconvenience, and assured me I won’t be bothered again.
I let him out and close the door with a smug smile on my face. I check the front window to see what’s happening, and I see her go into a full tantrum. It ends with her in handcuffs and in the backseat of the patrol car. Bye Felicia! Don’t know what happened to her, and I don’t care. I finally finished dinner, and my kid still has her bike. That’s all that matters to me.