Breaking it to the Kids

It was seven years ago, this month that I had to have the hardest conversation I've ever had.  I had to tell my son that his mother and I were getting divorced.


In order to soften the blow, I took him mountain biking and made the day all about him.  We rode to highest point on the trail and stopped to rest.  As we looked out over the desert, I started to break the news to him.


"Son, I need to tell you that I'm moving out and your mom and me are splitting up."


He thought for a minute and replied, "You're not moving away are you?"


"Of course not," I said.  "I'm getting an apartment near by.  I'm still going to be around?"


"Am I getting a new mother," he inquired.


I said, "No.  It's not like that.  Mom and Dad can't live together anymore."


"OK.  What about holidays?"

"Well, son,   I guess you're going to have two Christmases and two birthdays, etc."


He looked off into the distance and said, "Hot Dang!  That sounds like a good deal."


Then he asked me, "I didn't cause this, did I|?"


"Of course not.  You're the reason I stuck around so long.  However, I'm not sure about your Mom's opinion."


"Oh," he said.  "Where am I going to live."


"You can live with me if you want.  Or you can live with Mom.  It's your choice."


He got silent and finally said, "Dad.  I need some time to myself.  I'm going to ride ahead for awhile."


With that, he mounted his bike and took off down the trail.  I gave him a few minutes and headed out.


I was cruising down the trail, came around the corner and saw my son standing next to the trail.  Before I could react, he jammed his tire pump into my spokes.  I flipped over the bars, and rag dolled into a yucca.


He jumped back on his bike and went laughing down the trail.  He looked back and yelled, "I think I'm gonna live with Mom."


It was at that moment, I knew divorce was going to be more painful than I'd predicted.

This story is embellished quite a bit.

It's the version my son like to tell. 

I appreciate his dark sense of humor.