He tried to use our children as pawns to force me to host his new family. He didn’t know his wife had already revealed her true intentions to my teenage daughter.
My divorce from “Mark” was final three years ago. It was messy, mostly because he left me for his affair partner, “Jessica.” Since then, we have maintained a frosty but functional co-parenting relationship for our two children, Lily (14) and Sam (10).
Two days before Christmas, Mark called me in a panic. “Our kitchen renovation is a disaster,” he said. “The contractor walked off the job. We have no oven, no water in the kitchen, and nowhere to go. Jessica is six months pregnant, and she’s crying. Can we please just come to your house for dinner? It’s for the kids.”
I hesitated. I really didn’t want Jessica in my house. But I looked at Sam, who was listening with big eyes. “Fine,” I sighed. “Just for dinner. 4:00 PM to 7:00 PM.”
I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was being the “bigger person.”
The Warning
An hour later, Lily came home from her visitation with Mark. She walked straight into the kitchen, looking angry. “Mom, tell me you didn’t actually invite them,” she said.
“I had to, honey,” I said. “Their kitchen is broken.”
Lily pulled out her phone. “Mom, their kitchen isn’t broken. The contractor is there right now fixing the backsplash. They just don’t want to cook.” She scrolled through her photo gallery. “And you need to see this.”
While at her dad’s, Lily had been playing games on the family iPad. Jessica’s iMessages were synced to it. Lily had taken photos of a group chat named “The Real Housewives.”
The Screenshots
I read the messages, and my blood boiled.
Jessica: “Ugh, I don’t want to cook for 8 people. I’m going to make Mark beg his ex to host us.” Friend: “OMG, she’ll never say yes.” Jessica: “She will. She’s a doormat. Watch this. I’m going to go over there, critique her dry turkey, and make sure everyone knows I’m the new matriarch. I’m going to assert dominance in her own dining room. It’ll be hilarious.” Friend: “LMAO. Take pics of her tacky decorations.”
They weren’t in need. They were bored, lazy, and looking for a power trip. She wanted to come into my home, eat my food, and mock me to her friends while I served her.
The Cancellation
I didn’t call Mark. I sent a text. “Change of plans. The invite is rescinded. You can order Chinese food.”
Mark exploded. He blew up my phone with calls, which I ignored. Then, the Facebook notification popped up.
Mark had written a long, public status: “Unbelievable. My ex-wife just cancelled Christmas dinner for my pregnant wife and children 48 hours before the holiday. I try to be civil, but some people are just bitter, hateful narcissists who can’t move on. Please pray for my family as we scramble to find a meal.”
The comments were flooding in. Mutual friends, his family, even some of my family were commenting: “Wow, that’s low,” and “How heartless.”
The Receipts
I didn’t argue in the comments. I didn’t write a defense. I simply commented once on his post. “Mark, tell Jessica to check her iPad settings. And maybe next time, don’t ask to eat my ‘dry turkey’ if the plan is just to ‘assert dominance’ in my house.”
Then, I attached the screenshots of Jessica’s group chat.
The Fallout
The silence was instantaneous. Within three minutes, the post was deleted. Then, Mark’s profile went private.
I heard from Lily that Mark and Jessica had a massive fight that night—not because of what she said, but because she got caught. My Christmas was peaceful. We had ham, scalloped potatoes, and zero drama. Mark tried to text me a week later to “smooth things over,” claiming it was just “girl talk” and a joke.
“That’s fine,” I replied. “But the joke’s on you. Next year, don’t ask.”
