I gather anyone who just finished reading the 2006 episodes of Christmas Countdown, probably grasped the angst that I get around Christmas. Many have probably realized that my imagination has no boundaries with the finale of Superdaddyman saving Christmas from the evil penguins. It was an old joke because in 2006, I was more into graphics than writing, and in the Yahoo groups where we shared art, the Tux Penguins were a big thing at the time. I would always jokingly say that they were evil, and all the women folk would get all over me because they were cute. Well I had to incorporate the evil penguins into the story. Now you know.
Those Superdaddyman adventures started off fun enough. It was my way of dealing with being a single father forced to move back in with his family to be able to afford taking care of my kids. In other words I had sold my soul to the demons once again, and as I had said before I hated me for it. When I met my current wife, I really had no hope of ever doing anything other than getting my kids out of high school and then moving away to die somewhere. Pretty pathetic but 100% the truth. I faked holiday cheer for my children, and I did everything I possibly could to remain the “good person.” Nobody ever get to be the good person forever, because every mistake or false narrative negates all good will you have ever built up.
This is where I failed. I didn’t want to break my grandmother’s heart by moving the kids away from her. The family made my life hell, backstabbed me at every turn, and in the end we couldn’t take care of the kids, because they hated us. I quit, I sent them off to live with them, my ex wife tried to get custody (and failed because she is a pathetic loser) but the kids custody was given to my Aunt and Grandmother in that house I had finally escaped. The best thing for me to do was admit defeat and let everyone have each other. I stopped going over there to visit because it made me want to kill myself each and every time.
Now as I am 2 weeks out from having to go over there for Christmas, it reminds me how much I hate Christmas, Family and of course ME. The good news is when I am nowhere near having to go near that place, I am usually quite happy. I have no will to die, and I for the most part see nothing but happy roads ahead. My oldest daughter has since become her biological father's darling, made peace with my family that treated her like Hell and me worse for defending her, and hates me along with the other two. This time next year my son will be 18, and then I will have two years to tough it out and then I will finally escape this state, that family, and all the misery. That will probably be the best Christmas ever, because there will be no forwarding address. I will always have my Superdaddyman stories I guess.