Dear Diary

Whenever I want to write something naughty and private, Diary, I always turn to you.  So, just between us, I wanted to tell you about the ordeal B had trying to call his granddaughter on her birthday today in Houston.  She has her own phone number, but of course, when he called, The Warden just had to pick up.  

"Hello, may I please speak to Caitlin?", B said.  "Aren't you going to say hello to me," said The Warden indignantly.  "I just called to talk to Caitlin, please, to wish her Happy Birthday," B replied.

"Aren't you going to say hello to me!"  Really?!  This from a daughter who NEVER calls her father.  NEVER.  Diary, if she wants him to say hello, if she wants to know how he is, call him!  I don't understand a daughter who never calls her father, I really don't??!!  

If he dies before me, I will not be calling her.  As you know, Diary, I have not spoken to her in seven years, ever since she started bringing her mother up to our sacred cottage.  That did it for me, but I have always been nothing but supportive of his relationship with his grands.  You, Diary, know this better than anyone.

I mean, we had the two of them here at Christmas and what a lovely time we had.  For years, I supported B's annual visits to Houston to see his family but now, all we can hope for, Diary, is that they will want to come on their own -- without having to beg for parole from The Warden.

Well, I'm going to sign off for now, Diary, because I want to do a little research on what makes people become control freaks.  Frankly, I bet it will tell me she's a sociopath -- or even a psychopath.  Insecurity is obviously another big factor. 

Stepdaughter

More later. 

p.s.  Don't tell anyone about our little chat, please.  This is just between you and me.