Something rare has just occurred. I’m recounting this event having just lived through it moments before. Thrilling, isn’t it? I’m sitting here in my doctor’s office, making sure the latest allergy shot won’t kill me, and who gets up to have their shots checked? It was Mrs. Weeks, Beth’s kindergarten teacher (and one time teacher of the middle child in my first family). We graciously engaged in the kind of small talk that two people that hardly know each other engage in. Without any subtle transitions, I dive into the issue which comes immediately to mind, “so how is Beth doing?” She answered, “well, Beth is Beth.” Yeah, I know. She adds, “Beth can be a challenge.” “Sorry” I answer. Sensing that she is digging herself a hole, she decides to dig it deeper, “It’s o.k., so long as I don’t have any other challenges.” I think to myself, “is this supposed to make me feel better?” Sensing that she has dug even deeper, she finishes the conversation: “she is a very bright child though.”

Have you ever had a conversation with someone and come out of it with no idea where you stand?

On the bright side, Beth has now received happy grams on three consecutive days. If nothing else, things are improving.

Well, I’m home now and Beth has just announced that she has let loose with “a great big poopy.”