Dear Heather,

Yes, I saw you at the school today.  I’m sure you saw your child talking to me.  When your children speak to me, I talk to them.  Isn’t that how “being nice to others” works?

So this afternoon, when you had to come up to my car to talk to me, I was surprised at what you had to say.   (you really want that step-mom roll don’t you?)

You don’t “feel comfortable” with me talking to your children.  I don’t seek out your children to talk to them.  When they see me at the school, gym, etc. I would think you could appreciate that I go out of my way to be nice and show your children that Tesla’s mom is not the “psycho-bitch, money spending, lazy, drug-dealing, lying, cheating whore of a mother” that my husband paints me to be.

Do you think I will pull your child aside and say negative things?  What do you think I would say?  I know my name gets bashed at the house, but that doesn’t mean I would do the same to you.

So Heather, you don’t feel comfortable?  Big fucking deal!  I don’t feel comfortable with you talking to my child.

Side tangent——> especially since I’ve learned how tragic your children’s lives have been since you became separated from your hubby.  Really, the nerve of you to insinuate I am doing something negative, hurtful or dangerous in my writing.  You raise the privacy issue, but you had no problem identifying who you are on my blogsite.  Since it’s not to hard to figure out who my husband is, it shouldn’t take a rocket scientist to realize people already know where you live.  Duh.

So as I suggested, you tell your children that they can’t talk to me.  You explain what the fuck your problem is, other than it bothers you that your children (especially your youngest) talk to me and like me.  If they talk to me, I am going to respond, because that’s what is polite.  Can’t you and John recall learning all this simple shit in kindergarten?  The children in the house have a better head on their shoulder’s than you two do.  Acting like this Heather just makes you look bad to your kids and Tesla.  I remember meeting you the week you and John hooked up….you wanted us to be friends.  Jesus, Mary and Joseph….you were priceless.

Not only am I uncomfortable with you talking to my child, I have a whole list things I am uncomfortable with, but I’ll save it for another time.

Tesla’s coat really needs laundered.  Could you use my washing machine and dryer and take care of that please?

Thanks g/f

~P.