Backstory: Zoe had a little mid-playground collision with another kid at school the other day and now she's sporting a nice purple goose-egg right smack in the middle of her forehead.
Real story: Zoe and I are at the supermarket...
Wait. Sidestory: At the supermarket, Zoe asks if she can buy a giant Hershey's bar. No way, I said, you've got about 10 pounds of Halloween candy at home! And she gets a little sheepish and tells me that it's not for her, it's for "someone else" and she's embarrassed to tell me who. My tingly Daddy senses scream "BOY!!!!" And later, when she's having me help her pick out a greeting card to go with it, I am proven right: it's for her "new friend," a boy in the 5th grade. There are so many thing wrong with this turn of events, not the least of which are that 1) It's a BOY!!!!!, 2) it's for an OLDER BOY!!!, 3) she's giving him chocolate, 4) she has me picking out a card for him, and 5) I'm paying for it all. This is so Not Good I can't even tell you.
Anyway. Back to Real Story: Zoe and I are in the checkout line and I notice how dirty her face is and say something to her about it, that she's filthy and we need to throw her in the shower when we get home for her weekly hose-down. And I noticed the woman in front of us sort of half-cocking her head to eavesdrop on us, and then she snuck a surreptitious glance at Zoe, followed by a disapproving scowl to herself at just how filthy Zoe was.
So then I said even louder: "And, wow, look how big and purple the lump on your forehead is. Does it still hurt? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have hit you so hard, Peanut. Daddy gets mad sometimes but you know he doesn't mean it."
I thought the snoopy ol' biddy was gonna stroke out right in front of me. Ha.
And hey, look at the pretty Love Ride icon. Lots of people have donated and there's a growing list of folks who plan to with their next paycheck. Don't be left out!
Oh, Chuck... don't even joke about stuff like that!
I've heard too many horror stories about good parents having their kids taken away by Child Protective Services. All it takes is one misunderstanding... a nosy neighbor... someone with a grudge... even a teacher with an overactive sense of duty, and you can spend months, or even years trying to get your kid back from foster care.
We were friendly with a couple (both attorney's BTW) who were trying to let their baby learn to calm herself down instead of always going in to pick her up at night when she cried. After an hour, there was a knock at the door and the police, with a social worker in tow, took the kid away. A neighbor had complained that they
"heard the couple beating an infant"... and it took them months to get their daughter back!!!
I joke about just about everything under the sun... nothing is off limits... no sacred cows... EXCEPT this one subject.
Sorry to be a buzz kill.
Posted by: David at November 6, 2004 11:51 AMWell ... I thought this was so funny I read it to my girlfriend. She said the *same* think David did. "I would never joke about that."
The sceptic in me said "oh that's a bunch of hooey. All those stories are just urban legends."
But then I thought ... hmmm ... how sure am I?
Made me laugh pretty hard nevertheless.
Posted by: Jim at November 8, 2004 08:33 AM