trained kids

The detective’s mother just died after a long illness and the funeral is the week.  When the detective’s father died Jacket’s mom said she wanted to attend the services so I relayed the details  (and spent a lot of time trying to explain how to get there even though in the end she didn’t show).  Although she’ “in Florida” now, I figured I’d try to reach out to Jacket’s mom via her Brooklyn landline.  She’s never given me the number and I’ve never used it (except that one time I called just to see if it was indeed hers…), but it’s listed.  A kid answered the phone and I think I recognized the voice as one of Jacket’s cousin’s:

Kid: Hello?

Me: Hi, is Jacket’s mom available?

Kid: Who is this?

Me: Rebecca.

Kid: You have the wrong number.

Me: Ah, okay, and who is this (said in a chipper way)?

Kid: Children.

Me: I’m sorry?

Kid: CHILDREN.

Me: You’re saying your name is children?

Kid: Yes.

Me: Ah, okay.  Thanks so much.

It reminded me of the day I took Jacket back to her mom’s house to meet ACS.  When they arrived Jacket’s mom pointed to the couch and Jacket immediately went silent, sat like a little soldier, and whispered “Be quiet, it’s the SUPER, no talking.”  She sat like that the whole time ACS was there and her mom refused to allow them question her.

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19 Notes

  1. mommyakajenna said: Crazy!
  2. lovelylyra said: :(
  3. cosmicsilence said: there’s so many levels of dysfunction and crazy going on all at once and its so sad that these children were born into a hot mess they can’t control
  4. heinecke said: :( That is just so sad.
  5. blairsings said: Wow.
  6. fosterhood posted this