Last night I decided to take a Tylenol PM because I had a slight headache, but more importantly because I haven’t been able to sleep. Even though MIke and some new kid he met on the street (he probably has a new “friend” every day did have supper here (not with us, but after us) he wasn’t home by 9:30.
The Tylenol PM did the trick. By 10 I was snoring away... only to be awakened at 10:30 by the phone ringing. It was my friendly neighborhood police officer. Mike had been picked up for shoplifting at a large grocery store. I was really out of it and could not make a decision. I asked him if I had to come get him. He said no, but if I didn’t he would go to the New Ulm Detention Center. He hates it there. I truthfully did not know what to do, and Bart was sleeping soundly in Nashville, so I didn’t have a chance to get a second opinion. I told the officer I would come down to the Law Enforcement Center and get him.
Apparently he and a guy I had never heard of were stealing Robitussin. I told him he did not have our permission to be out, that he had only been living with us for about 5 weeks since his discharge from Thistledew, and that he was disregarding most of our family rules, but since he was almost 18 it was tough to do much about it.
Then they asked me for ,my driver’s license. It has been missing for 2 weeks -- don’t know if I misplaced it or of someone took it just to create chaos. I’ve been meaning to go down and get another one, but haven’t done it. So I had to admit to the officer than I didn’t know where my license was even though I had just driven there. ANd there was a reflection of me when I was standing there that horrified me ... in my Tylenol PM stupor I hadn’t thought at all about anything -- my hair was sticking everywhere and (dont’ tell anyone) I didn’t even have a bra on.
When we got into the van I said, “Now, if I don’t talk to you I will be ‘punishing you with silence.’ If I do talk, you say I’m ‘yelling at you.’ What would you prefer tonight?”
He appropriately asked me for a chance to explain. He met this guy for the first time skateboarding. They ended up at Cub and Mike followed him in. The guy grabbed the Robitussin and ask Mike to cover for him. “That was my mistake,” Mike said. He went on to say that he hadn’t taken it himself, but there was no way to prove it, so he would probably just plead guilty.
I felt sorry for MIke because this is exactly how his life is going to go. I explained to him that his disability kept him from remembering the past or thinking about the future, but that if he would listen to us we could keep him safe. I told him that I almost didn’t come get him and he said, “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
He then brought up the fact that the social worker had called me to let me know that Mike had been tatoo-ing his friends again (this had happened at supper time, and I hadn’t had time to blog it yet). Apparently some parents were pretty mad. He explained that he had the parents permission. I explained to him that that wasn’t what they were telling the school. I let him know that I had told the school to please pass on to the parents that Mike did not have permission to be anywhere where there was not adult supervision and if they felt so led they could press charges.
Kids with FASD are a classic case of “if you give them enough rope, they’ll hang themselves.” The problem is that the older they get the more they refuse a short rope and fight against it, making life miserable for everyone.
So I guess we have yet another pending court hearing to dread. It’s been less than five weeks since he said, “I’ll never break the law again” and he’s already done it twice. I'm sorry, Kari, that you have to know us sometimes, because we're living your future, and it's no wonder your scared. Hopefully we'll be there for you then like you are being for us now.
So anyway, I made my appearance at the police station, without a license, high on Tylenol pm.
And there are people in this world who have boring lives.
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