father's day spinoff

You may remember my disgust on Father's Day, when Voldemort kept Buttercup late that morning to celebrate with Pettigrew.  We briefly discussed the situation with Buttercup, but never quite got around to informing Voldy of our displeasure.  When the following thursday rolled around, which was Buttercup's first full day off of school, and a day to return to her mother's care, I happily took action.  With the King's full support of course. 

The transition time is 9 am.  Always has been, always will be.  No matter how they manipulate it.  So, a few mintues before 9, I sent Voldemort a text informing her that Buttercup would be late that morning, and we'd get there as soon as possible.  Why?  Well, I felt it important to take the girl out for a doughnut.  And we decided to take the dog to the dog park as well.  Buttercup was thrilled at her day's possibilities and glad to have a relaxed morning with Peanut and me.  We discussed how she wanted to spend her morning and when she felt she needed to get up to her mom's house.  And we agreed upon 10am or so. 

Not 10 mintues after I sent the text, Buttercup's phone rang.  She was unable to reach it in the car, and it went to voicemail.  10 seconds later, my phone rang.  Voldy wanted to talk to Buttercup.  She proceeded to try her manipulative tactics, but as she herself was at work until 1pm that day, they were rather feeble.  She said that Pettigrew was waiting for her at home, and was planning to order glasses for her online.  So not to keep him waiting too long.  Riiiiiiiight.....

I dropped Buttercup off a little after 10, happily sugared up and wagging her tail. 

Then this previous Sunday rolled around.  Another 9 am transition.  And again, I was ready.  With the King on board behind me.  I called voldy at 8:45 am and said we were on our way to pick up Buttercup.  Voldemort seemed taken aback and informed me that the kid was still sleeping.  And did I really want them to wake her up?  To come be with us?  After a few minutes, voldemort, perhaps weak from her pregnancy turned the phone over to Pettigrew, who was angry, to say the least.  He irately reminded me how late I had brought Buttercup on thursday, and that this was an OUTRAGE.  The thought of waking the poor child (who had been in bed for the previous 11 hours) was clearly a sign of our poor parenting skills.  I happily reminded him of their father's day transgressions, and interrupted as he attempted to give some feeble excuse for that. (I should have let him finish, cuz I am dying to know why they think that was ok).  Pettigrew went on angrily trying to make the case for our inadequacies, as I calmly kept telling him that we would be arriving shortly to pick her up.  I also told him that I would be happy to be the one to wake her and tell her why she had to get up, should she not be awake when we arrived.  He finally threw the last ball and shouted that if the King wanted to pick up Buttercup, he could do so.  And I said again that we would be arriving shortly to pick her up. 

I cannot convey to you the amazing extent of these people's angry outrage at me/us during that phone call.  It was a completely defensive and over the top reaction to our simple desire to follow the court order.  Of course it's rather ironic that somehow the rest of the year they are able to get Buttercup wakened and off to school by 9 am.  And sundays during the school year they manage to wake her up get her to hebrew school by 9 am, and force us to do the same on sunday mornings she is with us.  And yet, it is not important enough to wake her to follow the court order and get her ready to be with her father by 9am.  Just another blantant example of their disrespect. 

We walked up to their door at just about 9 am.  Buttercup was awake, of her own accord.  Thankfully noone was required to wake her.  And though still sleepy, she was happy to see us.  After a few back and forths and reminders of what she ought to bring with her, she was ready to go, and we were able to get on with our morning.

Perhaps they're wondering what's up our butts lately.  Perhaps they are feeling defensive and weak.  Perhaps there is some sense of guilt in there?  Who knows.  But I do know this.  I am done being fucked with.  As the King says, there's a war on, and I keep throwing things they do not like at them.  So far, they are not responding very well. 

Wait'll you hear what's getting thrown in next...