Beyond Comment
I am still tired to the point of ridiculousness, but I just had an experience that just left me astounded.
I'm sitting at my kitchen table. Christian is doing ten minutes' worth of spelling homework, and I'm filling out yet one more set of forms for the new school year. The dinner plates are still on the table, remnants of broiled salmon, salad, slices of mango, home cut fries. Christian has a little cup of ice cream melting near him as he berates me for the fact that he has ten minutes' worth of home work.
The doorbell rings. In bounds Kaleb in his football uniform, looking just as menacing as we found out this weekend that he is, and his mother. She is holding two socks that he ended up with that don't belong to him, and she is missing a shirt. I say that we will wash it. He threw up on it on the way to the bar mitzvah. She said, "Yes, he told me about that. He never gets carsick!"
I was led to believe that this was a regular occurance, which occurred under very specific circumstances, which dictated much of our weekend, and said so. She said, "No, or I would have warned you." And yet, the child seemed to know how to deal with the carsickness...
Then..." Wow, was he exhausted last night. He had a late football practice and then we had the little boys over... My daughter isn't used to being on her own yet... Her man was the one who broke the baby's leg in February and then was accused of statuatory rape."
Wa huh?
I look around the room at all of the children in the room, and I say, "Yeah, we were all pretty tired!"
She goes on. "He broke Joseph's leg. My daughter didn't want to believe it at first. She has two boys. Joseph is ten months old."
Kaleb, "Who are you talking about?"
"So and So. And then he raped a fifteen year old girl in June."
Oh my G-d. I got her out of my house quickly-- I don't even remember how, and I wonder which child is going to ask me what rape is and what on earth I am going to say and how many times Kaleb has heard this story.
Dear G-d.
We had quite a weekend with good ol' Kaleb. This was just the icing on the cake.
I'm sitting at my kitchen table. Christian is doing ten minutes' worth of spelling homework, and I'm filling out yet one more set of forms for the new school year. The dinner plates are still on the table, remnants of broiled salmon, salad, slices of mango, home cut fries. Christian has a little cup of ice cream melting near him as he berates me for the fact that he has ten minutes' worth of home work.
The doorbell rings. In bounds Kaleb in his football uniform, looking just as menacing as we found out this weekend that he is, and his mother. She is holding two socks that he ended up with that don't belong to him, and she is missing a shirt. I say that we will wash it. He threw up on it on the way to the bar mitzvah. She said, "Yes, he told me about that. He never gets carsick!"
I was led to believe that this was a regular occurance, which occurred under very specific circumstances, which dictated much of our weekend, and said so. She said, "No, or I would have warned you." And yet, the child seemed to know how to deal with the carsickness...
Then..." Wow, was he exhausted last night. He had a late football practice and then we had the little boys over... My daughter isn't used to being on her own yet... Her man was the one who broke the baby's leg in February and then was accused of statuatory rape."
Wa huh?
I look around the room at all of the children in the room, and I say, "Yeah, we were all pretty tired!"
She goes on. "He broke Joseph's leg. My daughter didn't want to believe it at first. She has two boys. Joseph is ten months old."
Kaleb, "Who are you talking about?"
"So and So. And then he raped a fifteen year old girl in June."
Oh my G-d. I got her out of my house quickly-- I don't even remember how, and I wonder which child is going to ask me what rape is and what on earth I am going to say and how many times Kaleb has heard this story.
Dear G-d.
We had quite a weekend with good ol' Kaleb. This was just the icing on the cake.
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