When my ex and I split up, we didn't fight over the big things. We agreed easily over the division of all the major assets; property, furniture, pets. Where we got stuck was the little things. We honestly argued over who got to keep the broom (I lost).
We managed to come to agreement fairly easily, and I have few regrets over how we handled that, except for one thing. The Dancing Gopher. I gave in on the Dancing Gopher, and I still regret it to this day.
Once upon a time, I had a dear bestest friend named Jesse. We were both recovering from bad relationships and lived together for many years. One day we went to a bar. Jesse was underage, so it must have been a bar/restaurant. All I know is that I had black beans and rice. That is not relevant at all. It's also not particularly interesting, but I thought I'd mention it to make my story longer and filled with solid details.
At the bar was a man, and with that man was a dancing gopher. A fabulous, fuzzy, adorable gopher that shook his fuzzy little bottom and danced to the Caddyshack song.
|I'm alright...don't gotta worry about me...|
(If you go to this website you can buy him and watch him sing.)
He was the most wonderful thing either of us could imagine, and when we learned that he could be had for a bargain price at the local Walgreen's - let's be honest, a dancing gopher at any price is a bargain - Jesse or I or both of us raced down to Walgreens and bought one. (The detail of who bought the gopher is much more relevant than the fact that I ate black beans and rice, but sadly I have forgotten. Now you see why I included the less relevant factoid.)
He was perfect and pure joy but somehow looked, well, naked. Luckily, we had been given a bag of broken and mismatched jewelry, and we quickly accessorized him with earrings, necklace, and a flower lei. He was even more fabulous now, and we showed him off to every visitor to our humble abode.
Eventually Jesse left town, and I got custody of the gopher. I brought him with me when I, too, moved away. I cherished him for years, dragging him from house to house and state to state, always keeping him in a place of honor in the living room. He still sang, but no longer shook his money maker. Eventually he would up on a shelf in the family room of my old marital home.
I was surprised in the property settlement that he became a creature of contention. He was mine. I brought him into the marriage, and I planned on bringing him back out. Ex-Mrs. Only-Mama insisted that he should keep him, though, because he loved the movie Caddyshack more that I did, and besides, he really belonged to the children now, and belonged in their playroom. I gave in and left my beloved Dancing Gopher there.
The last time I was at my ex's house, the Dancing Gopher was still displayed in his place of honor, though stripped of all his drag queen finery. I pushed his little button, and saw that his batteries had run down or his mechanism had wore out. Regardless, he no longer sang or danced.
Still, though ,maybe it's good that he's there. In a house totally stripped of anything else Mama, he alone is proof that I once lived there. He alone watches over my children when I am away.