This weekend, I somehow I ended up in custody (weekend-long) of my dead uncle’s 8 year old daughter. (The discussion of who would be taking the kid for an unknown increment of time went from child staying with Granny, to my driving child to other uncle’s house, to me harboring child in my minute
This is very awkward for me, because while I like children, I like them in two states: prior to linguistic ability and when they actually have interesting things to say. So, essentially under 2 and over 11.
Anyway, those who know me will understand that I am not super child-oriented, so this was somewhat uncomfortable for me. Picture, “Now honey, don’t touch KiKi’s comics…” [thought … Or I will fuck you up- adorable blond moppet or not].
Unfortunately the discomfort wouldn’t end as she poured out her tiny little heart.
My uncle was a troubled man. He was constantly struggling with his own demons, and was deeply resentful, extremely sensitive; a hard man to be around. I loved my uncle, but I didn’t always like him very much.
As I showed her how to bake a coffee cake and properly cook bacon she asked, “KiKi, did daddy go to jail?”
“Uhm, why?”
“Because he told me he didn’t, but I wasn’t sure.”
“Well, I don’t know. I don’t think so…. It doesn’t matter, your daddy loved you very much- that’s what is important.”
“Would he lie about it?”
“Your father was a troubled person, life was very hard for him. I don’t think that what happened before is as important as remembering your dad the way you knew him.”
Later, when we were going to meet up with other relatives to take a ferry ride and get ice-cream she asked, “Will Mommy die too?”
“Your Mommy isn’t going to die for a long time. What happened to your father was a surprise. People don’t usually die like that.”
“But he did.”
“Yes he did. But your Mom won’t.”
“But what if she does? Or what if she leaves?”
“If something happened either Grandma or Uncle would take you. You don’t need to worry.”
“Is Mommy really coming back for me?”
“I promise.”
Today I found out that that woman left my little cousin with some friend for a month and a half- mere months after her father died. If that woman doesn’t come back for this kid I will go down there and kick her ass.
To avenge my cousin's neglect I let her go to a PG13 movie, stay up till midnight, have a breakfast of cake and bacon, and ice cream for lunch. I know that this is an excellent display of terrible parenting skills, and this is why I don’t have kids.
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