Ahhh the peckerheads!

I may have made a mistake buying a record album from Italy, that now they say is shipping from France. Doggone it. Just when Gerry Rafferty died, I found his album from 1972. Stealer's Wheel -Ferguslie Park. I had owned the album when I was 15. I don't know what happened to it, I think it was when I got very religious and at the encouragement of a dear Baptist Minister I sold all my record albums to keep the devil out of my home. Poor gullible fool that I was.
The first red flag was the shipping was advertised as 4 dollars, but became 16 after I won the bidding. So I paid 36 dollars total for an album I had originally paid 5 bucks for. Then I e-mailed the company and asked how I could track the shipment. they said I couldn't. I shall write a scathing review.
Anyhoo, the third thing that irritated me was them saying they sent it out, but they didn't actually send it out until three days later. Estimated time of arrival is January 21. It isn't here... OK, I do not trust them to start with because they misrepresented the facts three times. In baseball terms, they would be OUT!
So I wait.. I hope I get it, I want to listen to "who cares" over and over. I find I can still sing it.

All I can say....28523

Your children will never be this age again. I wanted to do so many things. Provide dance and piano lessons, get them to try out for plays, spend time at parks, take them on adventures. They grew up and we didn't accomplish many of those things they would have been so good at. They were not privileged, they mostly had to wait for their needs to be fulfilled.
I was depressed most of their childhood. I tried to accomplish a few things every day, I tried to go through the motions of happiness. Some of it was due to hormones, some of it due to exhaustion, poor health, a great deal of it was being married to a selfish jerk. I could never rise above what he did to us on a day to day basis. He managed to tear down anything the children and I built. He had his own agenda, I guess his goal was making sure everyone was miserable, he fed off of drama. All these years later and I can almost remember the day to day pain, almost but not quite.

Today there is one left in the nest, due to poverty, work, poor housing condition, I am back wishing I could do more for my son.
Music lessons, let him try out for plays, maybe voice lessons... He curls up in a tiny ball of un-sociable, that I know he inherited from me, I am getting old, he is too young to feel so old. I am done thinking something good will happen, I am done waiting, I make good with the now that we have.