Tuesday, June 28, 2011

sleeping with the ally.

The first time I met my father's wife she was my father's boss.

It was a mid summer picnic on the company's dime and though my parents were still married my mother had opted to miss the festivities, citing a headache...whether she already had one or was sure the chain of events would lead to one - is unclear now. Three cheers for foresight.

I don't remember the exact moment the introduction took place. I barely remember the day. But I do remember a water balloon fight that lit up my five year old face. My partner in aqua warfare was a seemingly sweet woman in her early 30's who let me lead the way and kept my stockpile of balloons fully loaded. Later I would gush to my mother over the friend I had made at the picnic and how much fun we had had together. I'm sure I, like most excitable children, repeated the epic battle story over and over again. I can only imagine how many times and ways I filled my mother's ears with child like wonder over my new partner in crime. It would be years before I would understand the significance of that meeting -- before I would realize that the woman who so enthusiastically played with me was playing more adult games with my married father on a regular basis - before I understood the sheer audacity and disrespect that my father had displayed that day.

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