Sammie & Budgie by Scott Semegran

Author:Scott Semegran [Semegran, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scott Semegran
Published: 2017-10-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Taking the kids out of school was--and always is--a royal pain in the ass. Really. I mean, I had to call or email teachers and therapists and administrators. There was also the after-school stuff i.e. more therapists and coaches, etc. The list was endless. And it's not just good ol' Sammie Boy. I had to deal with little Jessie's people, too. It's enough to make me want to check out as a parent. It's way too much work sometimes. If I wasn't so in love with my kids, then I would have quit being a parent a long time ago. Too much administrative bullshit. It's true.

I spent the morning of the day we were supposed to leave for San Antonio to visit PeePaw emailing Sammie and Jessie's teachers, explaining why they would be absent from school. I emailed Ms. Fox, explaining to her as well why my boy would not be seeing her for speech therapy. I imagined how she would respond if we were speaking in person, in her heavy, German accent. 'Zat vill be fine. Your son is a fery shpecial boy. A good boy. A hardverkink boy. He is one of my favorite shtudents!' I always got a kick out of speaking to Ms. Fox. Her accent just got to me--in a good way. I had to also cancel an appointment for an annual checkup with Dr. Dimes for little Jessie as well as letting her taekwondo master know that she would be missing a tournament that weekend, an opportunity for ass-kicking all the little martial artists in our district. The hardest email to write was to Dr. Dena Davis who had suggested earlier that we meet on this day--the day we were leaving for San Antonio--to further discuss Sammie and some of the things she felt she discovered about my boy. She had a way about her that was so overly aggrandizing and overtly self-important that I found it difficult to disappoint her or alter schedules and appointments or do anything in any way that seemed as if I wasn't complying with her direction or advice. But I will say this, the more she dived into the machinations of good ol' Sammie Boy's psyche--or what she thought was in his little psyche--the more I felt she was off-target. I mean, I know she's a professional psychotherapist and all, but it didn't really seem that she knew what the fuck she was talking about. I guess it's part of the field to make grand observations about her patients' minds but it seemed to me that I just knew my kid better than she did. I was reluctant to continue taking Sammie to see her but I was also reluctant to cancel appointments with her, too. I was in between a rock and a hard place and it made for constipated communications with her. It was just awful.

The one person who I had a feeling might hold up everything but didn't was Nat. Like a trooper, she

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