Leaving the children with the enemy

Last night, I bucked up and let the boys stay the night at my dad's house. My kids call him, "You-know-our-Grandpa-your-Daddy." My sister's daughter calls him "That-guy-who-brings-me-stuff." They don't call my stepmom anything at all, since she's never allowed herself to be Grandma. My dad asked if the kids could come over and well, since one of his faults is his famous absenteeism, I chose to let them go over there. They wanted to go, so who was I to say no. They had a blast and grew a touch closer to that part of my family, and for that, I'm happy.

We went over about 5ish and had dinner with my dad and stepmom, and my stepsister (also named Melissa) and her husband. My stepmom went through all her consipracy theories and what (tub of) vitamins everyone should take. The other Melissa is about 5 months pregnant. It was her wedding last May that made Lindy and I realize that's our dad is a wonderful father, just not to us. To the steps he's amazing. He's the best daddy in the world. Especially now, with Melissa married and a bun in the oven, I see how much of a good dad he is to her. A lot of it is basic jealousy and hurt that he isn't the same with us as he is with her and her brother.

I know that and I'm nearly 30, so I should be over it. But I'm not.