And boys are stupid.
But they are also very sweet and mostly cute and good at reaching things on high shelves. Although that last thing doesn't really apply in this case, but they are.
Himself finally replied to my text late Saturday evening and he called last night. I had a major conniption fit/harangue/diatribe all ready to go but it died when I heard his voice. I'd never make it in politics, I can't kick a man when he's down.
I did tell him that I was alternately angry and worried when he didn't respond to my attempts to contact him. I also told him that I was very disappointed that he didn't call on Christmas. He said he didn't get the voicemails and from questions he asked during other parts of our conversation, I believe him. I was right, he was just (just??) being self-centered and thoughtless.
See, this is the thing about Himself that keeps me from whacking him upside the head one last time and stomping away for good - he doesn't sweet talk me. He didn't say "Aw, baby, I know I should have called because you are the sexiest, prettiest, smartest, most wonderful chick in all the world." (OK, that last part is true, even if he didn't say it. Yes, huh.) He didn't say, "I'm so sorry, sweetums, what can I do to make it up to you?" (I have a list as long as my arm.)
Nope, he said, "Violet, I'm sorry. I should have called you but I didn't." He explained why he didn't, which (surprisingly) I will keep to myself. Because someday I might, maybe (if I completely lose it) tell him about this blog. Or not.
Anyway, I'm weak but I didn't totally cave. I said what I needed to say, just in a much kinder, loving, 1,000 points of light way than I intended. And I'm hanging on to my skepticism. Time will tell whether this is the Very Bad Year getting in the way or something worse.