January 29, 2019

Door slam aftermath

Sorry for the delay in wrapping up this story, but I was waiting for my blood to stop boiling.  I would say my blood is now just simmering.  Still.  This was unreal.  Hope you have not been on the edge of your seat waiting to hear what happened next.  If you missed the dramatic and VERY unexpected beginning, click here to read the first installment, and here, herehere, and here.  Now back to the nightmare non-door slam story.  

While I assumed that Narcey would show up and apologize at pickup time for losing her shit that morning when she dropped off her kids to be babysat, that is not what happened.

She texted me about my cluttered entryway.  I ended up emailing her later that evening and once again apologized for the confusion in the morning.  I offered to make a sticker chart to motivate her kids to arrive at my house without giving her problems.  

She emailed me back and spewed some more craziness.  Like:  'I would want you to treat my kids the same as yours.'  No one I read that email to could translate what the F that meant.  Mini thought it meant that my kids were in the house safe and warm, and hers were not.  This translation was based on a few other comments in the email.
So after I snapped this photo I realized
that the red bucket almost in front of the
 door doesn't belong there.  That was left by
 kitchen workers who ACTUALLY showed
up today to do some painting. 
Otherwise, what
 do you see that is dangerous?  Ice skates on
 a shelf to the left?  A big empty gas can
 also on the shelves to the left?  A cooler?  

Did you catch how she referred to her 4 year old who was moving away from her into the garage as the ‘unsafe’ child?  (I can't remember anymore if that was in the text from her or the followup email.  It's all a blur).  Coach was alarmed that our garage would be considered unsafe.  We don’t live on a busy street.  We live on a culdesac.  Her kid backed away from the door because she was upset that she didn’t get to open the door . . . still within an arms reach of her mother.  Her kid was not in danger of starting the lawnmower or juggling the garden tools.  Like what the Hell?

She was also upset that I hadn’t set up a specific time for us to chat about 'the door slam' on the phone.  What?  If you feel the need to talk to me, dial the phone.  I didn’t think it was necessary to talk about whether or not I slammed the door.  I mean if you think about it, why on earth would I intentionally slam the door in her face?  I am not an aggressive person - just a busy mom without a lot of leisure time in the morning, who happened to have chilly kids the morning she left the door to my house open.  

Keep in mind that just before Thanksgiving Narcey asked me one day at drop off what I thought about the preschool schedule for next year.  Would I prefer it if her kids be enrolled in am or pm preschool for the next school year?  I told her I would think about it, but I thought the current schedule was working fine.

Riddle me this:  how do you go from being that content to being, well - to being what Narcey turned into?  More on that to follow.  

No comments: