I’ve become a cyber stalker. Not the scary kind, but the kind who just keeps tabs on someone who wouldn’t want tabs kept on them. Not very often, once a month or so.
I’ve sunk so low that I have created a fake Facebook account and say I’m in the same network as AJ’s mom so I can see her rather open Facebook pages. Some questions have been answered for me, like from where Peggy came up with is unusual middle name (one of her FB “sexy friends” has the same name).
Other than that, though, I’ve learned she has had a third child and is possibly pregnant with a fourth (status: “BOY O BOY.... Wat Have I Done!?”) and she refers to AJ as “my stupid ass lil man,” she’s cut off his incredible curls, and considers a bottle of Jim Beam an appropriate de-stresser after a day with her kids. She also has an entire online album of herself flipping the bird. Lovely.
I do get to see photos of him, though. The fact that he smiles in some of them gives me hope that his life isn’t as bad as his grandmother has led me to believe.
Kind of pathetic, I know. Like a scab I can’t stop picking and making it bleed all over again.