"You're lying"
"I'm not"
"Yes you are. You never told me that."
"I did"
("He did" said First-Born, looking up from her homework which she had left until the last minute as usual. Thats my girl.)
I leaned forward, and said in a voice too low for the flapping ears of the child: "I really don't think we want to have a discussion about your track record regarding honesty in front of First-Born, do you?"
And the arguement? Over whether I'd told The Ex that First-Born wasn't coming to my cousin's wedding. It had escalated into a full-on adolescent "DID/DID NOT" finger pointing session; sometimes the veneer of amicability tends to fracture a little.
However, all this is useful material. A good friend, P, gave me a book last night of unfinished situation comedies. I began to read through it while I waited for the pint of water and aspirin to show progress in the battle again excessive alcohol and Belgian beer. Its a book that promises fame, fortune, or at least a bit of a challenge. And the comedy of my situation should certainly be good for a few pages of wibble.
