Stars in My Eyes

“Do you have to tinkle?”

I smiled, then choked back a chortle when I caught the flinty Scorpio gaze lasering me back into place – you know, the place where no laughter is allowed at the expense of the narc.

“Oh. My. God. You’re serious?!” I said. “Don’t ever say that. We’re both grown-ups (debatable, in hindsight). Don’t ever say that again.” ….........

For one thing, you’re not conversing with a two-year-old, but also, I am an adult who knows when I need to pee (was the rest of the conversation going through my head.)

In the eight years before I married the asshole, I don’t think I’d heard that phrase. (I should have ended it on our first date when he chewed his pizza too loudly, but that’s a story for another day...live-and-learn, right?)

Now, every time I think of that word, the childhood nursery rhyme comes to mind. You know (sing along):

“Tinkle, tinkle little star …”

The voices in my head are laughing – they think I’m hilarious!

We’ve now been divorced for more than twenty years. Me and my x-husband, not me and the voices. They remain in my custody.

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