Sorry, this is not my thread, but your dad not asking how your interview went reminded me of the following.
When DD was 10 months old, she was hospitalised with sceptisemia. It was touch and go for a day, before the antibiotics started working and she was out of immediate danger. She was ill for a lot longer, months, in fact, culminating in mastoiditis, which ended up with an emergency op to remove her mastoid complex (that soft bit of skull behind your ear).
Dad was informed by Mum on the first day. He shrugged it off in a 'keep me updated' kind of way. She told him what was happening at each stage along the way. He never called me, he didn't visit her in hospital, he didn't contact me to find out how she was or how I was.
It was hard and hideous, and was a horrible end to an awful year.
About six months later, I was off work when he happened to come around doing to sort his bit of garden out (I'd given him a section of mine to grow his vegetables - I used to be a good daughter!). I explained I was off with depression and stress.
'What have you got to be depressed about?' he asked.
I explained about Claudia's illness. Oh, he hadn't realised it was that bad. His 10 month old granddaughter was in hospital twice, fighting for her life, having emergency ops, all of which he'd been told about. But it wasn't that bad in his eyes. It's the sort of thing that happens, and you just have to get over it.
Fast forward to two years ago. He had had a long term ear infection, which ended up with him needing to go into hospital to have some investigations done. He came around to explain to me how dangerous this all was. He might have something called mastoiditis, and he was very worried - it might end up with him having sceptisemia and dying. The doctors were hopeful in his case, but he wanted me to be prepared for the worst.
I remember it was at that exact moment that I realised I hated him. The self-centered, selfish, self-absorbed fuckwit of a man. All of the stuff from my youth - the beatings, the manipulation, the control, the feeling that I was owned wholesale by my father, all of this paled into insignificance when I realised he honestly thought he was more important to me than my child.
The areshole didn't even know her name for the first 12 weeks of her life. He kept calling her by something that was vaguely similar to a name on the shortlist that we hadn't even chosen.
And still, he wants the photos to show off to his friends and to put in his album. Even though he genuinely doesn't give a shit about either of them.
Anyhow - like I say, this isn't my thread, and I don't really have the right to put this here. I think, my question to you would be; knowing all that, do you think I should encourage a relationship with this man for the sake of my children? Or do you think I should protect them from the biggest bully in my life?