1. Tell him he’s not welcome.
2. Refuse to let his friends in – he’ll not only turn up – he’ll also bring along an odious female or a young man who’s so stoned he thinks he’s in love with you.
3. Wait up for him until 3am, then go to bed, fretting. He’ll arrive thirty-two minutes after you fall asleep.
4. Tell him you’ve hidden your life savings in your mattress.
5. Set fire to the town, leaving a narrow, unignited lane between him and your home.
6. Steal his bank card and take out all the money.
7. Go out for the evening. He’ll immediately have a crisis and call you up to say he’s on his way to see you.
8. Hell, just tell him you’re going out, and wait five minutes.
9. Tell him you have beer.
10. Wait for him to fall in the river – he’ll show up dripping stinky mud, ruin your carpet and sofa, splash filth over your walls, ask for a change of clothing, then pass out on the sofa that he hasn’t already soaked.
.
©Jane Paterson Basil
Now you’ve done research and verified all this, right? 😉
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Most of it – I haven’t tried setting fire to the town yet, but I’m fairly confident it would work 🙂
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Jane, I get it. I am a little worried about these recommendations. But I am praying for you. Right now, it seems that’s the best I can do. You will overcome your anxieties if there be any. You will find better ways to ask your son to visit you.
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There’s a follow-up to this – I’m posting it today. It’a called ’10 ways to get your son to leave.’
We have a difficult relationship. He’s abusive in avariety of ways, though it’s not intentional.
He’s meant to be moving into a care home for the vulnerable, but keeps putting it off. While he’s here, he’s at risk of harming himself.
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Fiction, I hope, Jane!
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Some of it…
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I’m guessing this is written mainly from lived experience, having seen some of this in action with people I know. Thinking of you Jane and sending you lots of {{{{love}}}}
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Thank you Raili xxx
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Oh, Jane. I do hope Paul can get himself together and go where he needs to be – for his sake but really for yours. You don’t need the stress and worry of it all. You must feel like shaking him. take care, dear Jane xx
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No, I don’t feel like shaking him. I feel like tying a rope to his feet and hanging him out of my window for a few hours.
Apparently I’m not allowed to do that without written permission from the housing association 🙂
Stupid red tape 🙂
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Can’t imagine how you feel. How frustrated and angry – and terrified – he must make you feel. I’m thinking of you Jane. Not much practical use, I know. X
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I’ve shut myself away, unable to talk even to my sister or my best friend. Blogging is what keeps me hanging on, and your best wishes make more of a difference than you can know.
I hope that by tonight things will be better, but that’s an old story.
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It’s so hard when there’s so little you can do to help him. He’s an adult making adult mistakes and all you can do is watch the car crash happen. So sorry Jane. I have been thinking of you x
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The train left without him. He had no intention of getting on it. He’s been stringing me along while tearing me apart. I’m packing a few things so I can hide out for a while.
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Jane, I’m so sorry. I hope you can vanish somewhere, get some peace away from him. Best wishes and luck to you. Take care my dear x
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I will, thank you Lynn.
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Take care 🙂
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I’m feeling a lot better today…
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Very glad to hear it 🙂
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