Under Construction

When he comes here
He can stay up late
Late as he wants
Until the television shows stop airing
And all he's looking at
Are infomercials
For bullshit kitchenware
And I'll give him my credit card
And let him buy that kitchenware
If he wants it

I'll let him pick the color for his room
And turn the closet into a fortress
With swords in it and everything
I'll let him paint monsters on the windows
And have an inflatable pool
Right in the middle of the floor
And he can turn the heat up the room
And spray water with a spray bottle
So it feels tropical
And then he can pretend
He's living in Jamaica or something
Instead of staying at his Dad's house for the weekend

Each night he's here can have a different theme
Friday can be Taco-Ice-Cream-Scary-Movie Night
Saturday can be Make-a-Mess-Play-Pranks-on-Dad-Buy-a-Dog Night
And Sunday when he goes home it can Let's-Plan-Next-Weekend-Day
That sounds fun, right?

I don't think he likes coming here
So, I try to think of ways to make it more fun
So he'll like being here
As much as he likes
Being at his mom's house

Right now, I got the whole place under construction
It's going to be a regular kid's palace when I'm done

A tree house
A water slide
And a corn maze
If I can figure out how you plant those things

I want him to come here
And never want to go home, because--

Because right now he just kinda sits in the window
In my living room the whole weekend
And looks out onto the street
Like he's waiting for his mom to come
And pick him up even after she just dropped him off

I say 'Hey buddy, you wanna do this?'
Or 'You wanna do that?'
And he just shakes his head
And I...

You know, I leave him alone

Because...

You know, I don't want to force him
To love me

Or to, you know, want to be here

I want to say to him

You know, it wasn't my choice

It wasn't my choice to have it this way

If it were up to me
I'd have had us all living together
Forever
In the house I got with his Mom
But sometimes stuff just doesn't work out that way
And that's, you know, that's how it is

When I first moved in here
This place was a dump
I mean, no wonder he didn't want to come here
And me?  I was a dump
You know, I was a bum

All upset over my divorce
Always covered in dirt
Gross, like really gross
And I'd cry all the time

And just...

No wonder he fucking hates me

But then I started working
Putting new doors on
Putting new window treatments
New hardwood floors
New coats of paint

And you know, all that stuff was for me
So I could live here

But I want it to be his place too
You know?

Every Dad says that
When their kid comes to stay with them

That they want the kid to feel like
They have two homes

But that's never how it is
You can't have two homes
Nobody can

Especially not an eight-year-old kid

So I figure, if he's gotta have one home
It should be where he is most of the time
And that's his Mom's house

But maybe he can have a--like a, vacation spot
Or something, you know
Where he can get away

And maybe that can be this place

With a fortress
And a pool
And bowling alley in the basement

Maybe I can give him that at least
And then he'll be happy to come here
And happy to see me
And just, you know, happy

So right now, I apologize for the appearance of things
But we're under construction
I mean, the house is, it's--

All of us

We're in the process
Of rebuilding

That's where we are