Only A Stupid Man Would Say No

Joey was tired after school today. Tired and crabby. He called me “stupid.”

“Stop right now,” I told him.

“I didn’t mean it,” he said. “But you can smack me if you want.”

“I’m not smackin’ you.”

“Pops does it…when I don’t look him in the eye.”

“I’m not smackin’ you.”

“Mom did this morning when my Nerf bullet hit her door.” 

“Were you tryin’ to shoot her with your sponge shot?”

“No, but after she smacked me, I wanted to punch her.” 

“No punchin’ your mom. No matter what.”

“But, she…”

“No matter what. Walk away. Go to your pops. Talk to me.”

“Pat says ‘Don’t say anything or…'”

“Or you’ll cause trouble, get taken away?”

“Something like that.”

“What happened last time Children and Families showed up?”

“Who? Wha…?”

“The folks who have the power to take you away. What happened last time they came knockin’ on your door?”


“That’s right. And, if they come again, it’ll be a whole lotta more of that same nothin’ thing. So, next time she goes after you, get out of range, lock your bedroom door, leave the house and call me. Hear what I’m sayin’?”

”  .”

“Hear what I’m sayin’?”

“Yes. Can we go to Waffle House?”


About joefingas

I am a songwriter, poet, blues singer, and a boogie woogie piano player. I have a grandson but I have no children of my own. All my women have wised up and left me. I was a bum, a wino, a drug/alcohol counselor, a prevention/intervention specialist and a pretender. I have no more time to pretend.
This entry was posted in 12 Step Meetings, Blues, Co-Dependency, Denial, Fiction, Love, Memoir, Parenting, Relationships, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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