I’m the queen of saying stupid things. Like last summer when I inadvertently implied that a friend was pregnant when she wasn’t and everyone congratulated her because she was “starting to show”. Or that time when I called my friend’s new boyfriend by her ex-boyfriend’s name at his own birthday party. Or yesterday, when I referred to a coworker’s daughter as a son despite the fact is a picture of the child on her desk with a bow in her hair.
It stands to reason, therefore, that karma felt compelled to taunt me after my husband and I separated a few months ago. Apparently, it was my turn to be the recipient of tactless questions and commentary. And because I prefer to think that I’m not alone in this experience, I asked my Facebook friends to chime in with their own sad tales. Here are some of my favorites:
Maybe you should try harder. (Let’s see, it’s been nearly a year, our counseling bill is higher than our mortgage payment, we’ve both lost ten pounds, and we still can’t speak to one another without tears or arguing.)
We never liked him anyway. Really? Like, you all sat around and talked about how you didn’t like him and it didn’t feel at all disloyal to me? Awesome.
So, when are you going to start dating? Um, it’s Wednesday. He moved out Saturday. I’d answer you, but I’m crying really hard and the children keep pulling on my pant leg and asking for Daddy.
You should take him for everything he’s worth. Why, that won’t make things worse at all! Let me start emptying our bank account now. Dinner is on me.
You’ve got to fix this. Yes, yes, you’re right. Wait, how do I make a man stay when he doesn’t want to be here? And why do you want this for me?
How was your sex life? Does my separation mean we have now have no boundaries? How is your sex life?
Do you ever just look around and think, “Wow, I don’t have a family anymore. How did this happen?” Yes, thank you for letting me know that everyone else is looking at me and thinking the exact same thing. And I think it’s awesome that you think a family can only be defined by the presence of a man.
What would you do if you found out he was cheating on you with a friend? Why are you asking me that? Where were you last Saturday night? C’mere, let me smell you.
Do you think your kids will ever recover from this? No. They will probably either go to jail or live in my basement forever due to the trauma of their parents’ divorce.
If your kids could pick, who do you think they’d want to live with? Um, they’re 4 and 6 years old. Can you please not plant the seed in my head that they, in addition to their father, may not want to live with me?
_______________. (This represents silence.) You were so talking about me before I walked into this room, weren’t you? I wonder how much of what you were saying was factually correct.
So, do you ever get lonely at night? Come here. Just stroke my hair for a minute while you’re talking to me.
What would you do if someone broke into your house when you’re alone at night? I would say, “Come here. Just stroke my hair for a minute before you kill me.”
Do you think he misses you? I’m going to go with . . . no. And it doesn’t hurt at all to admit that so feel free to ask me again and again.
Think you’ll ever get married again? Wait, you mean because the first time was so awesome? Hmm. Maybe we can wait until I’m actually divorced before wondering from where my next source of hurt and disappointment will come.
Tell me, folks, have you experienced an awkward moment while divorcing?