Your Son and My Son

Your son has no interest in seeing you this weekend
Your son says he's done
Waiting by the window
Waiting for you to call

He got fed up at six
I took until twenty-six

Isn't that funny?
In a tragic-in-need-of-therapy sort of way?

A six-year-old figured out you were an asshole
And I couldn't see it
Until you told me you wanted a divorce

But my son is smarter than I am
Thank God
And my son is tougher too
Thank God
And my son is fine without you in his life
And he's helping me get there as well

And shrinks can tell me
He needs you around
And why, I say?
Why does he need
To be let down

To be neglected
For whatever girlfriend-of-the-week you've got?

To be set aside
In favor of the extra cash
You can pick up
Working a weekend shift
Not like you'd spend it on him
And even if you did
I doubt your son can be bought

My son is not impressed with your credit card scores
Or the house you're buying
Or the car you're driving
Or how cool you think you are

I hear your son sits at your kitchen table
Staring at a bowl of food
You don't know he doesn't like

He waits for you to admit that you screwed up
But instead you just tell him that I'm spoiling him
By making him everything but the one thing
He doesn't like to eat

You label him with unfair names
'Picky' 'Whiny' 'Brat'

You don't know his friends
You don't know his teacher
You don't know even know his birthday

And you crack jokes that aren't funny
And tell him he should play baseball
And he fucking hates baseball
And why don't you know this?

Why don't you know this?

Why?
Why?
Why?

Why does my son have to be your son too?
Why do I have to share anything with you?
Why didn't I take off like I said I was going to
A car full of stuff
And two brand new names
And you'd never have found us
You probably wouldn't even have looked

But instead I stayed
To be the mom
The books told me to be
The happy divorced family
We never could be
But aren't all the therapists proud?

For two days a week
My son becomes someone
He truly hates to be

And I don't blame you for that
In fact, I blame me

But it's no wonder, no wonder
No wonder your son can't wait to come home
To be my son again