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I hate Mondays.
Jan. 9th, 2007 03:47 amGood Lord. The drama du jour.
First thing this morning, one of the teachers I work with flags me down from the D wing office. It seems she had called home to see about one of her students' gloves. (It's -30, the child needs gloves.) However, no one was home, except a scared and hysterical two-year old. He was home alone and freaking out. She didn't know what to do and didn't want to just hang up on him.
So, I ran and got the principal. She got the number and went to look up the address so we could send PSO over. In the meantime, we handed the phone around and took turns talking to the poor kid. He was frantic to have someone to talk to. It turns out it was the gloveless girl's little brother, but he was crying so hard, she didn't recognize his voice. He was sobbing his guts out. I was asking his name and how old he was and he was too upset to get the words out. All I could tell was that he wanted his Mom and she was gone.
Being a tad on the grim side, my first thought was that Mom was dead. Best case scenario, she was asleep in the house somewhere. Possibly drunk. But there. Who would leave a two-year old at home alone, after all? She had to be there. She wasn't. She had gone to work. It turns out that this kid gets left alone every day. When his sister (who is 4) gets home from the K4 program at noon, she takes care of him until the next oldest sister gets home from middle school. (she's 12-13) I noticed the principal wearing a strange, Grinchy smile. It seems that this family had given her a lot of grief before.
And that was all before breakfast.
Let's see, I also lost the skin on my pinky finger to a gas pump. (see the part about it being -30 degrees) I passed up a chance at a tabletop D&D game because I'm frazzled and footsore and my ear's ringing like a thing that rings constantly.
First thing this morning, one of the teachers I work with flags me down from the D wing office. It seems she had called home to see about one of her students' gloves. (It's -30, the child needs gloves.) However, no one was home, except a scared and hysterical two-year old. He was home alone and freaking out. She didn't know what to do and didn't want to just hang up on him.
So, I ran and got the principal. She got the number and went to look up the address so we could send PSO over. In the meantime, we handed the phone around and took turns talking to the poor kid. He was frantic to have someone to talk to. It turns out it was the gloveless girl's little brother, but he was crying so hard, she didn't recognize his voice. He was sobbing his guts out. I was asking his name and how old he was and he was too upset to get the words out. All I could tell was that he wanted his Mom and she was gone.
Being a tad on the grim side, my first thought was that Mom was dead. Best case scenario, she was asleep in the house somewhere. Possibly drunk. But there. Who would leave a two-year old at home alone, after all? She had to be there. She wasn't. She had gone to work. It turns out that this kid gets left alone every day. When his sister (who is 4) gets home from the K4 program at noon, she takes care of him until the next oldest sister gets home from middle school. (she's 12-13) I noticed the principal wearing a strange, Grinchy smile. It seems that this family had given her a lot of grief before.
And that was all before breakfast.
Let's see, I also lost the skin on my pinky finger to a gas pump. (see the part about it being -30 degrees) I passed up a chance at a tabletop D&D game because I'm frazzled and footsore and my ear's ringing like a thing that rings constantly.
