The Widower Rule

If I were a 60 year old widower, with no permanent (and-slash-or high paying) job and with six children, I will never get myself a girlfriend.  Especially if she looks like Cristy Fermin the male version of Cristy Fermin.  Much more if she has extra baggage.

With that age and with that status, I must know better right?

Okay let’s say I broke the rule and unfortunately fell in love with a male-version-of-Cristy-Fermin look-alike.  Will I take care of her extra baggage too?  Will I take her kid and let it live in the house where my late wife and I built our family?  N-O, NO!  I will not trouble my “original” children of the problems I created myself and I will not feel bad if they disagree of my acts, I will understand because it is indeed disagreeable.

I will not take anything against my children if they would hate me.  Of course they would.  I was not exactly the “father” they expected me to be, most especially now that their mother is not around anymore.  I am supposed to be the one taking control of the family; I wasn’t supposed to be a burden to them.  I am supposed to help, not to cause trouble.

I will never, ever, ever ask my children for money then later spend it on that whore.  I will not borrow 100 pesos from one of them, a hundred pesos from another and maybe one more hundred bucks from another to desperately collect enough money to later spend on that whore’s kid.  I’ve never been that thoughtful to my grand children, why the heck am I going to be that sweet to somebody else’s kid?  Another important thing, I will never, ever, ever go over my daughter’s bag in search for money. That is just so wrong.

If I were a 60 year old widower, with no permanent (and-slash-or high paying) job and with six children, I will stay at home, be useful and be the father that I am supposed to be.