Good morning everyone. Wednesday again. The summer is just flying by. Soon it will be September 1st and my third book of The Georgia Series will be released. More on that next post. Meanwhile, hope you enjoy my story for today. It is really a true story not fiction, based on my memories of raising my son.
I arrived to pick up my twelve-year-old from his first job; babysitting a boy after school until his mother arrived from work.
A difficult kid but my son handled him well. Whenever his mother showed, his charge acted out.
Cleaning up the playroom, my son stooped to pick up darts on the floor. In a tantrum, the boy threw a dart as he stood. It wedged in my son’s back beside the spine. My son hit the floor, turning white. “Mom, I can’t feel anything in my back.”
The kid’s mother smiled at her son, telling him he shouldn’t do that. Furious, I took mine to emergency. The dart penetrated a muscle, causing a spasm that left him numb. Otherwise, all good.
Driving home, my son said: “I’m sorry, Mom but I’m quitting my job.”
I smiled. “Good call.”
I wonder whatever happened to that Social Worker’s kid?
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