33. Responsibility

Dear London Fire Snake Scorpio,

The flu has caught me. Kids have been sick for 9 days straight now. I don’t sleep well as the little ones often wake in the middle of the night for care. I collapsed completely yesterday. Could not move. Low fever, chills, nausea, pain in every damn muscle in my body. And my face is burning. So I use ice packs. Helps a little.

I do the works: Vitamins, electrolytes, anti-inflammatories, pain relief, probiotics and plenty of water. Still could not raise my head from the pillow yesterday. Ordered food yesterday. They didn’t eat much. I am out of money. It’s not like I had money for the order in, but I couldn’t find a different solution.

The pain is constant, “whining,” we call it in Russian. My lower back and hips, especially. When I woke this morning, I was worse than yesterday, so I sent him, the Water Dog Libra:

“You dropped the kids off sick here, and I have been dealing with their fever for almost 10 days now. I have a very high fever. I cannot stand. I cannot cook. 
We have been eating takeout for 3 days, and I am incapable of paying for it anymore. Can you please take the kids and give me a day or two to get better? My surgery is coming soon. I haven’t worked for 2 weeks at all.
The kids need a safe environment with food.”

His response, and I quote:

“I can’t today because we have stuff scheduled. Let me check about tomorrow.”

I don’t even know why I am asking. As if the incident with the pregnancy didn’t teach me anything. Maybe I just needed to be angry again.

I don’t know, mate, am I being unreasonable here? What kind of life and death plans would prevent a father from hearing that his children need him, they are unsafe and unfed?

I told him to go fuck himself basically. The kids know that even half a human, I still care more than he does. Pissed? Me too.

Oh, wait, there’s more. Then he texts Drago and tells her I am very sick, and that she has to help manage the house and cook today. Like… what in the actual F? He has damn plans with his wife, and let me be clear, nothing short of a hospital emergency is a good reason not to be there for your kids when they are sick and need you, and then he texts a 14-year-old to take the job and be the adult?

Remind me to tell you how that idiot “supported” his son when he was 4 and went through a surgery.

Anyhow, I am in bed. Kids ate breakfast and brushed their teeth. Medication distributed. They are doing mahjong time now and will probably need something to do later. Can’t think. I put a crockpot. That was really hard. And yesterday separated Sherlock and Mycroft again — long story for another time.

I am sorry, I am too beat to continue. 
Need to close my eyes again. 
Let’s talk later, sweets.

---

I had a good sleep, drank loads of water, and feel… different, haha. Can’t quite call it well yet, but definitely a little lighter. My Drago made me tea, and I warmed up the Crock-Pot soup. Tastes like… a mom soup. It was healing. The kids are showering. We survived the day.

He doesn’t stop, though. First, because I told him what I think of him, he got all guilty, haha, and did the typical thing he always does: gave a gift. Can it be more narcissistic than that?

He texted me a few hours later, asking if it was okay with me if he registered Stallion for a football camp. Usually, I would try to knock some sense into him and tell him I won’t allow it. This time, I just said

“Loving how slowly you make it so that none of your kids can stand you. Choosing ONE child of your four to give him something? Go for it. I don’t care.”

Then the moron called Drago and told her, “You don’t like football, do you?” She was rolling her eyes. The girl is in the school league! But why would a neanderthal like him think a girl would be into football? Then, when she told him, of course, she is, he said he is checking the possibility of registering them both. She burst into my room, “Thanks so much, Mom!” — ”For what?” She snored. “You think I don’t know you had to remind him that I am into football?” she smiles.

Either way, 2 hours later, he texts her again that this is way too expensive and he would rather take them all to a cabin for a week, like he did last summer. That’s his fatherhood. Oh, kids, you are dying at home sick? That’s ok, Mom got it. But I can take you to have fun!

Finally, I texted him

“If the kids cannot go to school tomorrow, can you pick them up at 6pm from here, instead of the next morning? A good sleep in a clean bed would do them good. Does that sit well with your schedule?”

His answer-

“Sure. It means you owe me a day, right?”

Because he is so shameless in his behaviour, I sometimes still question myself if I am the insane one. I told him we got it, obviously, and he can go and stick his “owed days” up his ass. But damn…

Mycroft and Sherlock updates: So I united them 3 days ago. On the first day, they looked all lovy-dovy. On the second and third days, every time I enter the living room, Sherlock is breathing hard and leaning on Mycroft. I start being suspicious.

So I talk to my AI and ask it how intelligent budgies are. Could it be the little MF is stuffing him behind my back? AI says, of course, it’s possible! Super intelligent birds. I snap a pic of the bird and send it to the AI, asking, “Is he being fed?” AI says it is being stuffed, explaining all kinds of stuff. But I don’t care for the details.

So with a damn fever yesterday, I chased that little idiot around his cage until I was able to drape the tea towel on him. I set them up in separate cages, leaving a gap for Sherlock to see Mycroft and made arrangements for him to have a “scratching post” so he can take care of his own preening — the reason he is taking this damn abuse.

I am… tired. And angry. I know that life is rarely fair, but I am so tired of working so hard, carrying all of this, and he is the one who gets the rewards. Oh, don’t worry, it will not change a bit the fact that I will rise again tomorrow to do what I am doing today, and shield all those who depend on me. But even an Ox feels bitter sometimes.

I had to fight for most of the things I have in my life. But I am a very lucky person all in all. So this wallowing is beneath me; I do not mean to be ungrateful. I have 4 amazing kids. I am smart and capable. I live in a country that defends me, and I have no war. So what if I am in pain? Pain is temporary, and I lived through worse.

I think it’s time for me to head to bed.

Yours, 
Oxy. 
April 7, 2026

Help me find him: Have you seen this man?