Wednesday, October 11, 2006

I Love My Social Worker

(How sick is it that I even have a social worker? Argh! But fortunately, it's not turning out to be such a bad thing after all. Geez. )

Yes, Darci the S.W. came by today. First, she came by while I was at my writers group (which happened to be in Cheyenne this morning--brrr!) and left her card. That was pretty cool, I thought. If she really thought she'd catch us at something, she wouldn't warn us like that. So I came in and fed Punkin Boy ('cause yes, I do that) and had some lunch too. Then I straightened up a bit.

While I was finishing up the dishes, Darci came by again. She looked apologetic. "Let me guess," I said. "You got another crazy phone call." Apparently. Claiming we don't feed any of our kids anything, even banana bread. She explained that she had to investigate and had talked to the kids yesterday. They seemed fine, she said (thank you very much), and asked if it would be too much trouble for me to let her look in my kitchen at the food I claim to have. Oh sure, come on in.

Sorry for the mess, I said, I've been working. (Yay, I had another project, but yech, the state of my house!) This time, she said it wasn't so bad, so I felt better. I explained about the church welfare system and mentioned that I had multiple cuts of meat in the freezer and fresh veggies and fruits in the fridge. "Mind if I look?" Darci said. Nah, go ahead. She seemed really impressed and amazed. But she believed me. That felt good, like my sanity had been restored.

We talked for a while about the situation and how sometimes #1 Son likes to exaggerate slightly to set his "mommy" off on one of her rampages. He thinks it's funny (*Jack*), and it would be if it didn't affect our family like it does. She is quite amazingly insane and wants no truck with reality if it means agreeing with me or The Man (TM). (She's still going on about how he's trying to steal her time with her baby, when in reality it's her threatening to kidnap him when he's supposed to be here with his father. Sheesh.)

So anyway, Darci and I had a very nice chat. We talked about how skinny #1 Son is and how skinny his dad was when he was younger. How he eats more than I do, and I certainly don't weigh 75 pounds. Dang fast metabolism. How sweet Pirate Boy is and how he loves to talk about his pirate crew to anyone who'll listen. And how healthy all the boys seem to be and how she'll just be closing out this incident and making a note in case of future psycho phone calls.

YES! I love my social worker.

3 comments:

Dorothy said...

Oh, Thank God this is turning around. Make sure you ask for copies of everything and keep them with the psychotic emails. That, combined with the #1 Son's revelation that she's off her rocker does nothing but help you.

But #1 Son needs to be instructed in the art of not inciting the riot.

Jack said...

LOL . . . good to see the kid has such a mature sense of humor. I mean, it could be fart jokes, ya' know?

And it's especially good that you have a positive turn of events. Congratulations.

Slap-Happy said...

I've heard plenty of fart jokes from Monsieur Man there. Plenty. (Boy Scouts seemed to help in the much lacking category of "pee" jokes as well).

Yeah, he probably tells them to Satan, who laughs until tears flow.

He could do with a bit more control and understanding regarding the family situation.

I've seen him cry over costing us money, so I won't be too hard on the lad... he doesn't mean harm by it.