Busted

 

While I was at work last week, I got a call from Guest Relations at my father-in-law’s senior living community. My FIL got busted. Good thing I knew how to remain calm with all the practice I got with the Principal’s office when my kids were in school. It was just so weird to be The Child in this case, rather than The Parent. Who’s the responsible party here? The roles are all jumbled up.

The caller—The School in 2005 and The Springs in 2020—is always mindful that the receiver—The Parent in 2005 and The Child in 2020—is going to be on edge right from the start. Until this moment of contact, I have been in the dark in one of two situations. The Thing has been going on for some time, and I am just now finding out. OR I have known that The Thing was barely under control all along and now it’s blowing up.

There’s always a moment of panic when I see the Caller ID followed by a lightning quick conversation in my head:

OhnoIt’stheschool/theSprings.Whathappened?Aretheyhurt?Aretheycrying?Juststaycalmandpickupthephone.

I always appreciated Alex when he called from a school phone. Remember this was way back in 2010—ten whole years ago—when it was rare for kids to have cellphones. Albert and I didn’t see the need for our kids to have cellphones until they were in high school. I’m thankful that we don’t have to navigate that conversation these days with young kids.

Alex used the phone in his teacher’s room, so I’d recognize the school number. He’d always start right off with, “Hi, Mom! It’s Alex. I’m not in trouble.” Immediate relief. Look at that cute face.

But this wasn’t always the case. There were often tears and sometimes it was a teacher or counselor or principal, and that is never a fun convo. But the adults always started off trying to keep the parent calm.

“There’s been an incident on the playground that we wanted to talk to you about. Nobody was hurt, but Alex choked one of the girls.”

Alarming, right?? This was in FIRST DAMN GRADE. I think we had lived in Oregon for maybe two weeks, and my kid was trying to murder other kids already. Here’s what happened. Kids were playing tag in September, and this little girl was wearing a hoodie. Alex was in hot pursuit, and his little six-year-old brain didn’t see anything wrong with grabbing that hood that was fluttering ahead of him just within his reach. Took that little girl right down.

Another afternoon I was treated to this call. “One of the moms was helping with hallway bulletin boards, and Alex walked by and touched her bottom.”

Six years old and he’s grabbing women’s butts? This is some jacked up Reverse Cougarism going on around here! EXPLAIN. This helpful-but-excessively-prissy mom was stapling things onto one of those large bulletin boards in the hallway. Alex used to like running his hand along the wall, feeling the rough texture of corkboard, the smooth paint of the walls, the little dip into the doorways of each classroom. As he walked through the hallway with his class, he didn’t even notice this woman as he ran his hand right over her ass. Until she screamed and scolded him and then complained to the Principal.

Am I a terrible mother for thinking these things are ridiculous and kind of funny? I appreciate communication and the opportunity to address these issues with my kids, but part of me thinks that a lot of regular kid behavior gets blown way out of proportion.

Take this instance of the time Chris was sent to the Principal’s office for “sexual harassment.” My Chris, the Fifth Grade Predator. Now, I’m not saying that some kids this age are not very troubled and dangerous, but here’s what happened. They were starting their Human Development curriculum, and boobies and penises and vaginas are hysterical to ten-year-olds! Heck, sometimes a well-timed butthole still cracks me all the way up!

During class, Chris reached over and wrote the word “penis” on his neighbor’s paper.

Naughty, yes. And the girl reacted just like a normal ten-year-old girl. She shrieked, “Chris wrote the word penis on my paper!” And that, my friends, is sexual harassment in the 21^st Century.

I got a call from the office, and Chris spent the afternoon in elementary school jail writing a “self-reflection” about his crime. By the time he got home, he was ashamed and teary-eyed as he confessed his story to me. I told him I thought it was silly that he got in trouble for that.

We went on to have an open conversation about misunderstandings and how things could go better the next time. I think that it’s important to hold kids accountable for their actions, but I also think it’s really important to remind them that you’re on their side and that adults aren’t always right and sometimes overreact.

This was just an extension of a similar conversation Chris and I had when he was in second grade and got busted for taking a grilled cheese sandwich for hot lunch instead of the yogurt his (very mean) teacher signed him up for. His teacher complained to me, “He just doesn’t like to be told he’s wrong.” Right. Nobody does, Lady. That was a rough year for our family, but I think mostly for Chris. Poor kid.

I got calls from the Principal about Audrey, too, but mostly just because she threw up.

So I felt very well prepared accepting this call about my FIL. He got busted for yelling at the housekeeping staff. Ever since he moved, the lovely staff consistently tells Albert and me how funny and sweet my FIL is and how much they enjoy having him around.

Don’t get me wrong, my FIL is a good person, but he is not easy to please. And he can’t hear shit, so yelling is not unusual. A big part of the problem is that he doesn’t realize that he can’t hear, which causes a great deal of confusion for all communicating parties. “You’re not talking loud enough. You’re mumbling your words. Why didn’t you ever tell me if it’s so important?” He’s also losing his cookies a little bit, so there is no shortage of misunderstandings.

We moved him into his new place with a lovely set of grey sheets, but he forgot that they weren’t the same white sheets he used to have, so he thought that the housekeeping staff swapped out his sheets or somehow greyed them in the laundry. And he also wanted his bed covers to be just so, but those details are difficult to explain when you can’t hear.

Albert had a talk with my FIL and then with the staff. I think he got things smoothed out for now. Just waiting for what’s next. My guess is that he will become excessively unruly during Happy Hour.

Here's hoping that you don't get busted for just living your best life, my friends!

As always, thank you for reading!