Highlight Reels of Games Gone By

I am not taking a lawyer to the hearing. This is not my first rodeo, and I have a hard time walking into court saying I need more money in MY wallet as opposed to Lars' wallet having obviously shelled out $425 an hour plus court appearance fees to anyone.  And, provided there is no chaos from my opponent, it is just a numbers game. Tax returns, pay stubs, medical expenses, add, divide, blah, blah, blah.

My first lawyer, who I summarily fired in a full voice tirade of epic proportions, laced generously with as many expletives as I could recall from junior high school, was completely useless in our first court appearance. I recall wishing I could tackle her, tape her lips closed and argue the case myself. It ended in the disastrous arrangement my kids and I have endured for the last six years.

I hired a new one. One who was part aggressive beyotch and part know-it-all-pain-in-the-ass.  When I had gone to request a temporary reduction in my support order while my company furloughed management for 20% of our time for 10 weeks, she had given me some decent advice, even though the ink had already dried on my beloved divorce decree. She said she'd have a junior associate, Steve, "run the numbers" and she'd provide them for me to take to court. No need to take an attorney. There is nothing a reasonable person would find to argue about. I had taken J. for moral support.

On that day, I'd gone to court and found that there really wouldn't have been much of a difference in what I'd pay Lars by the time all was said and done.  Lesson learned. And the judge was lovely.  A rare courtroom experience indeed.

Lars had brought his aggressive, loud-mouthed, grating attorney, Randee, and she had jumped up to speak first, setting me temporarily on my heels. I stood and interrupted her, in front of a courtroom full of deadbeat Dads and runaway Moms, and begged His Honors forgiveness.

"Since I am the one to have filed the petition to modify, shouldn't I be the one to speak first, your Honor?"  He smiled. He was very pleased.  Randee is not from this county. He did not know her like he knew other lawyers who appeared regularly in his courtroom.  And he was not impressed with her aggressive lunatic rantings at my expense. He nodded and asked her to have a seat while I made my argument.

I explained the situation completely without interruption. And when he explained the formula and the calculations and how it would have only minimally impacted me, even though for 10 weeks Lars would be bringing home MORE than me, I thanked him and sat down.

At which point Randee, in her over-caffeinated manner, jumped up and began to request that Lars be compensated for all manner of nickel and dime bullshit. Field trip money, Girl Scout dues, Boy Scout patches, a new backpack, a gym uniform. 

I recall that I looked at the judge as if to ask, "What the f*** is this nonsense?" and he, reading my mind, told me that once I opened the door by filing a petition to modify the order, they could request modifications of their own. And money grubbing Lars and equally stingy opposing counsel were shamelessly taking me to task.  Receipts and bills in a pile.  And I had no way of proving I had born my share of expenses that I had not expected compensation for.

But as Randee prattled on and on with no discernible end in sight, I rose once again and addressed the judge. "Your Honor, I'd like to withdraw my petition." 

Smiling from ear to ear, and beaming with pride for me, he granted the motion and ended the hearing.

It had been my greatest pleasure that day to walk by Lars and his lawyer and laugh to J. that Randee had been beaten by a civilian.

I was hoping to get as lucky this time.