During his once-a-month-and-for-all-he-knows-last call from his sole surviving parent having had his phone wrestled from his hand by some totalitarian thug, a few "give me back my phone you fat f@%&ing cow"s were more than in order.
During his once-a-month-and-for-all-he-knows-last call from his sole surviving parent having had his phone wrestled from his hand by some totalitarian thug...
You got that right. But the flip side of this is that a mother was disconnected from talking to her 17 year old son. A son who she presumeably hasn't seen for 4 going on 5 months. A son whose father is dead. A son who is new to the high school, new to the town--a son who attends public school. I worry about my 17 year old son, who I see every day, when he's across town in the public high school, when he's driving, when he's at work, when he's any place other than asleep in his bed. I'm not an obsessive worry-wort, but I like & need the reassurance that he is O.K....and I'm here to tell you that a once-a-month phone call isn't a 'luxury' from her POV. It's a freaking necessity and if these 'administrators' are a little bent out over the kid using a little profanity, just wait til momma gets home. Gutless wonders thought they could get away with the tough guy act since the kid doesn't have a parent around the block and in his corner. I dearly hope that travel arrangements have been made for Mom & that a contingent of brass accompanies her to have a little 'This is how the cow ate the cabbage' discussion with the petty tyrants at Spencer High School. That, and a Million Mom March headed in that direction.