It’s been just under 24 hours and I’m still waiting for Family and Children’s Services to come and take the kids away. No, there were no attempted murders. Neither did I attempt to abandon them alongside a country road. Oh no. We had one of those lovely visits to Grandma’s house that witnessed some bold language. The kid of language that kids shouldn’t know, let along use correctly at my in-laws house.
My wife’s parents are the most generous and kind people I know. They are immigrants to Canada and have been in the country for quite some time. They are also pretty socially conservative. I’ve occasionally been amazed that they can make a right hand turn since they are so far to the right already. But I digress. My father-in-law will sometimes swear when I am around. Mostly because I am a bad influence and when he does swear, it is just like a schoolboy getting away with being naughty. I’ve heard my mother-in-law very rarely say “shit.” The entire family cringes when this happens and looks around for an escape route. I can distinctly recall both occasions I witnessed her say “Fuck.” I truly believe that both times she was fully ready to commit murder and do the hard time.
So that was the scene yesterday evening, very Emily Post, when Maya flew into a rage because she felt I wasn’t listening to her attentively enough. She stormed off down the hallway shrieking over her shoulder at me “You never listen to me. I hate you. I wish you weren’t my fucking father. I hate you.” There were stunned looks from Grandma and Grandpa and luckily for me, my wife wandered out of the bathroom into Maya’s path. She took the needed corrective action and then walked calmly into the living room, looked at her mom and dad and asked “Still think she’s a total angel?”
We’ve been trying very hard the past few weeks to help, direct, motivate, assist and basically not kill Maya as she deals with anger issues. I think that Milo went through a phase when he was struggling to contain his anger but he didn’t have Maya’s ability to make it very personal. We keep on keeping on. And wait for the knock on our door.