When communication breaks down into ?

Communication is basically any form of sharing ideas.  Until there is something that stops it.  Such as wife to husband:

Me: November 8th: Leaving Chuck E now.  Sorry.  (Tess and I were leaving Chuck E Cheese, sorry we were running late.)  7:06 PM

From that day I texted him 6 times about seeing or talking to Tesla.  On November 16 at 3:25 PM I asked if Dale could pick Tesla up after he is done in his office.  They would then meet me at York College for Spartapalooza.  John responded with: We will see Dale at 5.

Dale had already left the office and showed up (not to John’s surprise.  He knew Dale was on the way) only to have John give him a hard time about getting Tesla.  He also told Dale Tesla has bad poison ivy from helping him in the woods.  She has poison ivy all over.  Poor kid.

John also tells Dale he found an antidepressant pill in the couch and wanted to know what pills I was taking to see if it matched.  Dale ACTUALLY went and looked at my scripts.  (DUH…see how John gets people to do what he wants.  He gets more from them than I would ever give.)

I texted John he is an ignorant ass.  Not so much over the stupid pill he “found” but because Tesla had a doctor appointment and he didn’t tell me.  Probably because he knew Tesla would want to leave with me.  John instead waited, only to give Dale an information overload.  Don’t talk to Dale about Tesla or me, talk to me!

Some random texts to John.

What is Thanksgiving day like for you?  We are trying to see what we can do with the day and hospital visits.


John can you plz get back to me?

Hello….dear you.

I would like to talk to you about Thanksgiving as soon as possible.

Can I get tt a lil more since we are off school for Thanksgiving.

What time you having dinner on tg?


Hello  (Today Tesla called after this text.  She asked almost immediately if she can come stay.  I knew she would which is why I have been texting and calling John and not getting answers.)

Our conversation ended with Tesla telling me she would talk to her dad.  Good luck kiddo.

My last text to John was “?”

Sad when communication breaks down that badly and the six-year-old must try to save face.



Go ahead...take a swing. I'll duck and listen.

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