Yeah yeah yeah, you and Guy Ritchie are breaking up, big surprise. You're both dating other people, woop-dee-doo, who knew!?
But really? Putting your kid in a Yankees shirt and parading him in public? Lady, that's hella low. Hella. I mean, say out loud and to whomever you please whatever you please. Say, hell yeah I porked A-Rod and they don't call him that for nothing, woot! But involving your child? I mean, One, your kid will be hella pissed at you someday if he finds out you used him to display your passive aggression. Two: That's hella passive aggressive! Which: Gross.
So yeah. I heard today that Guy is looking forward to having Christmas again, since you apparently banned it in your house, due to Kabbalah. Which: Kabbalah, Schmabbalah, I say. Even lots of Jews celebrate Christmas. Example of conversation between children in your neighborhood:
Johnny: What'd you get for Christmas?!
Madonna's kid: We ate steamed fish. What'd you get?
J: I got a bike!
So anyway, here's a warning: Guy is quickly on his way to becoming The Favorite Parent, what with this whole introduction of Christmas thing. Look out, skinny lady!
By the way, my disgust for your passive aggression in no way influences how I really feel about you deep down, which is to say that I have always and will always adore you, since you helped shape my childhood and for a while, I actually wanted to be you.
Good luck with the divorce.