The Disgusting Truth: Toenails and Sebaceous Cysts

Okay, so if you had a wife/ex-wife--which means someone you married but didn't divorce after she had two kids with another guy because you didn't want to go to court and have to toss dirty laundry to get parental control of your kids--and she was short about $500 a month, what would her jobs be. I know. Sex would be great because I still think she's about the most beautiful woman/flower/anything I've ever seen, but that ain't gonna happen. Repaying the money would be great, but that ain't gonna happen. Ignoring her when her water is about to be turned off--not because boyfriend, who lives in another state, doesn't want to pay it, but he's already got alimony and child support and is doing the best he can but comes up short--is not an option because when I married her I promised for better or worse, and if this is worse, so what? I still promised to take care of her, regardless of circumstances. Add to that that her new babies, Sierra and Alexa, are my children's sisters, and you know I will come up with that water/electric/house payment money. Every month till I die. And I won't resent it.
Still, there has to be some sort of quid pro quo. Someone has to scratch your back a little if you keep being asked to scratch theirs.
So here is the disgusting truth. Chepa has a job or two she has to do now and then. And they're rotten jobs and she does them laughing out loud, almost. The first is to cut my toenails. Sounds like something I ought to do but after I got a wierd toenail infection in the Amazon years ago, the two big townails grow very very thick and I have never found anything I can cut them with from the "bending-over" angle. Worse, they've become ingrown, so if they're not cut about every month, I pretend I can walk and walk fast but I am in pain immensely.
Her second job is to clean a sebaceous cyst I've got on my back that I can feel with my hand but not clean out. Now that is a disgusting job. She does it with relish, sticking a knife straight into the thing right next to my spine that I can stand up and walk around with a steak knife (used only for this, not for eating) sticking out of my back, to the ever delightful glee of the kids, who run around screaming, "Mom, you stabbed dad in the back again! How could you?" and such, while at the same time screaming, "Get the air freshener! This stinks!"
And, of course it does. It's a fatty deposit that's rotting.
Now I don't know that I couldn't get those two jobs done once a month for less than the $500 she always needs, but then I have to get at least something in return for the work it takes to make that $500. And those jobs allow her to remind me how disgusting a human I am while delighting in doing them, her indigenous instincts coming to the fore as if she were burning off a live monkey's hair before cooking him or her.
Today, both jobs were done. I'm always clean, but today I'm super super clean and delicious. And Chepa got to stab me in the back and watch me scream as she took poisoned toenails out of my toes, leaving me bleeding. And Marco and Madeleina got to laugh for an hour at the disgusting and painful scene.
Funny how if you look at things just a bit wide-sided, you can enjoy the life and laughter they provide.