Two Days’ Worth of Enough Beads
A Minute to Myself (186)

Beware of the Bread Knife Thief!

For some reason I wish I could pity ex-man, but he insists on making sure I don’t land in pity territory, but stay firmly rooted in disgustland.

This morning, I got to the house to take some of my things. Surprisingly and oh, so happily, he was not there, so I took Poops for a walk, took most of what was left in my room, took my food items from the refrigerator and pantry, and assorted kitchen items that were not in hazy “Whose is this?” territory, but were firmly mine, and left. I have no desire to quibble over little glass dishes or Chinese soup bowls, so I’ve taken what I know is mine (from the PSA) and things that are so “mine” since I used them all the time—and he didn’t pick them out (and maybe, even, I received them from my parents)—that I felt that they belonged to me. I made my get-away before he returned and made it back to my apartment before younger daughter and her friend woke up. (Yes, we have had our first sleep-over.)

At around six I took younger daughter to the house to pick up some things before taking her to yet another party. I figured that that would be a good time to pick up some more things. The verbal attack that greeted me was unexpected, unexpected because I had just spent my first night at my new house knowing that I will never sleep under the same roof with exman again, knowing that I will never have to put up with his tantrums and abuse again, knowing that I will never have to face him again. But I was wrong.

The floodgates of his mouth and venom opened as I opened the door. Apparently I have stolen the toaster that we have had for nine years, one of the “parents at the soccer game” type of chairs, and the BREAD KNIFE!

To which I replied: the toaster is mine, it’s in the PSA, but I will check and if it is yours I will bring it back. The chair, I said, we had agreed that I would take two, but I will return one of them. And the bread knife back off from my bread knife because you’re not getting it. Not only was this certainly from my parents, but it is also the knife whose handle broke and whose tip flew off when I slammed it down—point first—on the (I mean, your) cutting board when older daughter told me that you told her that I had put shit on your car and she thought that that must be true. Nope, you’re not getting the knife.

“Thief! I’m making a list of the things you stole.”

“Take me to court.”

And as I trudged upstairs to take apart the shelving unit that I had put together in my closet when I moved out of the master bedroom into the guest bedroom four years ago he screamingly proclaimed that his new hobby would be to make my life miserable (for five years, I guess until younger daughter goes to college in four years).

“You can’t,” I said to myself. "There is just no way that you will invade my life any more. The kudzu is cut."

Tomorrow I need to go back to the house to divide the photograph albums and boxes of assorted daughter-artwork that I have saved. I will wait until younger daughter gets home from her sleep-over because I have no desire to be in the house alone with him, nor do I think it wise.

The knife stays here. Thief my ass. If tears were money, I would have gotten to keep the house and everything in it and he would have had to build a pool for me to house the tears. Bum.

Coming soon: The Annoying Downstairs Neighbor. Let's just say "busybody" is fitting.



I work for an attorney and I can honestly say that your Exman is one of the most petty, unkind, truly toxic folks I've ever heard about. Even the most hostile divorces I've assisted with haven't been on the level of yours.

I am very glad you moved into an apartment and get to leave this situation behind.

He lost his mind over a TOASTER and a BREAD KNIFE... Wow... just... Wow...!


My take? He is bitter, childish, petty, angry - and scary. What he really hates is himself - you are a more convenient and preferable target for that hate. You're moving on and that infuriates him even more. Huge sigh of relief when you no longer have to go back to the house. Be careful.


Oh Laura, I am so relieved to hear that you have your own place. Because I have not been around much I didn't realize this until reading this. I am so happy for you yet I will not breathe a sigh of relief until you get everything out. It would be wise to not go back there alone from now on. I don't trust the bastard. Please be careful.

I swear to god that your ex man and my ex man must be twin brothers. Seriously. Both of them are bitter, childish, selfish, controling big babies. Both of them seem to take enjoyment out of hurting and stepping on anyone that doesn't play their anyone dare stand up to them?

The end is near my friend. I have waited for this time for you since I first found your blog. You are an amazing strong woman. You are a great mother and teacher. You have much to be proud of. As you begin this new life and make your new home, I hope you find such peace, safety, happiness and joy out of this time of starting over. I am proud of's been a tough journey and yet I see all that you have become out of it all and how much more you will become in the days, weeks and months ahead. How exciting! Hugs and love, Lori


Laura, exman is very threatened and jealous that you've moved on, having taken definite, concrete steps to begin (and have already begun) your new life. Too bad for him; he'll continue to suffer in a hell of his own creation.

Just a few more days to go, then what sounds like a creative and peaceful summer vacation. Looking forward with you to the 18th,


I think it very wise to NEVER be alone with him now. The reality of you are finished is finally sinking in and I'm afraid his rage will know no bounds. Do be careful and I'm so happy you are in your own place now, how wonderful and I can't wait to hear about the downstairs neighbor - I guess there always has to be some sort of downside, but, IT COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE! :)


IT might be best if there is NO transfer of a knife between the two of you...I think that nothing good would happen. Things sure get ugly. I wonder what he is going to do without you being there to absorb all of this venom.



And what's this with you and an annoying neighbor also?


I feel for you Laura. When I split up from my German boyfriend many moons ago (fortunately), he was so mean he would argue on a kitchen towel! I was so fed up with him (and also afraid for my own safety) that I left most of my stuff there! I lost a lot but not my dignity! Hope your situation will get better soon. Leave him the bread knife, the toaster and all those silly items! You get new ones, but any minute spend arguing with him is a lost minute in your life!!! Best of luck! Ciao. A.


Oh for fuck's sake, it is nearly unbelievable that you had to share a house with him like this for four years.

He is a very fucked up person. I am so gald you are out of there.


I must have missed your post about your new place. Congratulations on that. And as previous posters said, please be careful with your safety while removing your things.

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