I'm comin' up hearts

A few weeks ago I came across an ad for cattle supplies, and it made me think about the things I missed out in and never had the chance to do.

Riding on my horse, sittin' in the saddle. That made me think about my ex-wife and made me realize how broke in that saddle felt, which I took for granted as the suppleness of newness. Youth wasted on the young, but that made me think of my prior ex-wife and the child she bore while married to me...and the questions of my family tree having African-American relatives somewhere amidst it's upper branches...or were those roots she was referring to?

Ironically in a twist of fate, said first ex-wife made contact with me and broke the truth to me, that I was not in fact her child's father...amidst much beating around the bush and pussyfooting of sorts.

Aghast at her comment, I made it perfectly clear the practicality of me being the said now young adult woman's father! Our marriage, our few nights of Shrangrala while in military training, and never the question of her having lived with another man while married to me and pregnant by another ever being a position the military took at the time.

And that's when I made it clear to her that after having found my own biological father after her statement some 22 years prior, I could offer her the following:

"After careful deduction and investigation, I have come to the following conclusion. You my dear, are black".

And so no further contact with her, requests for support, or demands for paternity testing to date. Which brings me to the final conclusion...the best thing about dating street people is you can drop them off anywhere after you're done.

But if you're gonna be free of an ex-wife's bogus power trip, sometimes ya just gotta call a spade a spade.