Only Cool Fish ALLOWED

I went to Walmart this morning after cashing my pay check.

I intended on picking up a few fish and a bag of stones and a decoration

for my beta-bowl.

300$ and 2 hours later, I still came out with the goods.

3 new females to swim with the big boy.

When I left the pet aisle, I spotted FABD (Fat Ass Baby Daddy) coming toward me.

I couldn't move fast enough and if that cart had a gas pedal I would have floored it.

But I didn't want to move too fast to draw attention to myself.

I hid, nestled into the hair aisle which was also where I wanted to go.

I was on a blog the other day (whose I don't recall) but this mama had

a non sponsored post about 'infusium 23' leave in hair conditioner.

Her cute as a button son had curly locks and she mixed it with H2O to get that

all day curl. I saw it and thought that may work for my hair!

I snatched up a bottle and it should last forever because it comes in a gallon jug.

I am going to try that next time I shower and wash my hair.

My favorite 2011 discovery other than guacamole is John Frieda

hair care products.

I also got John Frieda's 'go blonder' lightening spray.

I have the shampoo and conditioner, but I am almost on E when it comes to the spray.

Now some of you that have been here before know I am a red head.

A natural one and not that only cute on a kid Ronald McDonald hair color, more

orange than red. I have an auburn red that when the sun hits it

the blond high lights are seen. It's the kind of red hair that

old ladies love to ooh and ahh over and dare to touch.

Now the blond highlighter is what sold me on the

John Frieda Go Blonder.

The shampoo and conditioner have citrus and chamomille ingredients

 and lightening spray is hydrogen peroxide based.

The spray, I swear, is the key.

On wet hair, squirt on and rub in then blow dry.

It gives me that pool lightened look all year round.

When I first started using this stuff, I told people my intentions

and I got some strange looks.

I didn't expect to be a bottle blond, sparkly white blond like Marilyn Monroe

nor did I expect to look like a natural born tow head blond like my boy.

Over the few weeks I used it I did get many compliments and

tried to sell people on this stuff like a John Frieda rep.

After I blow dry the hair, it does look blonder. Not blond, but blonder.

John is a genius.

Anyho...off track...hiding in the hair aisle I scooted down further and poked my head out,

looking down the aisle.

 I didn't see FABD anywhere in sight, but I felt him

like you feel the killer in a horror flick.

You don't see that fat bastard but your gut tells you he's there.

Summoning up my gusto, I couldn't hide there forever so I moved along and found razors

then heading toward Dove deodorant he spotted me and found it necessary to speak.

What with being in public and all he assumed he was safe.

Our interactions are never mere conversations.

He's an accuser, the 'you ruined my life , bitch' kind.

Every single thing that has happened to him since the day I said "I'm pregnant."

has been my fault.

"Hi, Jill. Jill, hi, Jill, Jill, Jill" obviously ignoring him under the ear buds

was ineffective.

Like OFF spray is ineffective against the blood sucking mosquito.

I pulled out an ear bud, said hello and waited. I never know what is coming, so I wait.

"The gift cards. You know the ones from Christmas..."

"uh-huh. Yeah."

"Well, I have the post office tracking them down. They were mailed from Delaware

and as soon as they are found I'll get them to the boy."

The same boy he believes in his GED math to be 12 not 10.

"Ok, like game stop cards or something?"

"Oh, no, Visa gift cards."

"OK."

"How's the kids?" He asks like we are old acquaintances intead of parents.

And he always asks about my girl like she's his too.

I say the ritual they are ok and school and smart. He likes my girl a lot.

"She's just like her father." I mumble. "Trouble. 7 going on 21."

He hates the mention of the Rican, so it's a knife tisting in his side because the

Rican raised his son not him.

 Jab, jab.

"You look good, Jill."

14 lbs lighter, I think to myself, "Thanks."

"And your hair looks pretty like that."

All the compliments making me squirm, the walmart employee giving me

strange looks.

When he compliments you, there's always an ulterior motive,

a dirty thought behind the compliment.

Reminiscent of a creeper.

I cannot believe I made my son with this guy.

I had him when he was handsome, a good job, dependable.

Now he looks like some amish reject with the mishapen and too thick beard.

The weight gain has me smdh every time I have to see him.

Pot belly, a pig heading toward the slaughter.

No fights at the walmart this morning.

Just tired excuses and creeper compliments.

He wanders off and I scamper back to the deodorant, comparing prices

on the Dove. Dove smells pretty and keeps me from stinking.

As I am comparing the new smell to the standard smell and the 3$

difference just for the smells, I hear him.

He has this constant clear his throat thing going on.

Has since the day I met him.

Allergies, FABD is allergic to everything except pussy.

That was his problem.

And the fact he liked to slap me.

He really has no redeeming qualities about him.

So there he is, the creeper FABD, an aisle over

probably peeking through the chick stuff at me.

No, oh no. I hauled ass out of there with both deodorants

toward the food.

He crept around not too far, keeping his distance.

I spied him leaning against a display chatting on the cell.

25$ a week in child support, but he still can afford a cell.

He followed me a bit, but I must have left off the I'm gonna fucking flip

vibe, because he left. With nothing.

No cart.

No stuff.

He disappeared as quick as he arrived.

Fat as he's grown, he can move quick.

Real quick.

Betas-check

blond hair-check

Avoiding FABD-Epic Fail

Jill

2/3/12