First of all, your new nickname fits you. You are small.
In the event that you might be reading my blog again and reporting back to the Little Missus, tell her I have no preference one way or another about running into her this weekend at Our Big Family Celebration. She is less than nothing to me. I don't care about her shoes, or what couture label she might wear, whether or not she will kiss Mr. Ex in front of me, whether she will hug my daughter, or sincerely congratulate her. I don't care about her 30-something hair or skin, or her nice manicure, or that her handbag probably cost more than my plane ticket.
I do care that she wrecked my family and had a hand in hurting my daughters--but not for the loss of Mr. Ex who was already lost in so many ways--and really not worth finding. I do care that my family is unable to gather around M. and congratulate her in a chorus of one united voice. But oh well, we will sing out that love for her separately. And maybe when The Kiddo graduates from something or other, Little Missus will be in a similar leaky little boat. Tell her that. Maybe The Kiddo's photos of his big day will be fragments of a family he once had. Just maybe. Ask her how she might like that, would you, Minny?