Jerry Springer Or Just Another Phone Call From My Family

My phone vibrates and plays a series of tones indicating that I have a new text message.

Please pray for us wr have nowhere to live

Let me explain a few things first. My sister, who is in her late twenties and married with two kids, lives at home with my mother and step-father. It is supposed to be a temporary thing, but my sister has never lived anywhere else and she has no real aspirations of living a life that does not include leeching off of someone else. Since she is too lazy to apply for government assistance or keep what assistance she has been given, my mother falls victim. My mother, who is not without blame, should have told my self-centered sister and her goalless, ignorant husband (I’m not being mean, he is just ignorant of the way the world works and not very intelligent to boot) to move out when they got married. Now they have children and none of us have even the slightest notion of letting those babies go without a roof over their heads.

So knowing that neither of my parents would let the boys (my sister’s kids) go without in anyway, I was confused, but not overly so. I sent a message back to her and asked, “What’s going on?”

Dad kicked us ouy

I was curious and concerned, but didn’t want to get too entrenched in affairs that did not directly effect my family so I texted her the letter Y. Instead of another message I The Honesty by Blue October poured out of the tinny speaker on my smart-phone letting me know someone was intruding upon my day even further than what had already occurred. I sighed heavily, apologized to my wife, stepped into the other room, and answered the phone.

I don’t have the greatest memory and I didn’t record the call (I should start recording every call), but the conversation started off with her attempting to explain to me what happened, her side of the story.

She explained that her husband and her father got into it and, after telling the kid’s father that he was the source of all of the problems in the home, told them all to get out. That was her story. She usually didn’t outright lie, but her truth was not always completely accurate either.

I asked her where she was at that time and she said they were sitting in her van up at the elementary school a couple of blocks away. When I asked her what her plans were she defiantly told me that they were going to sleep in the van. I refused to let that one go. I told her that she was not going to let her kids sleep in a van. She would go to a shelter if nothing else. She broke down crying and I think I understood her say that she couldn’t go to a shelter and she didn’t know what to do. She has too much pride for someone who has never  made her own way in the world and didn’t know how or where to even begin to do so. She hung up on me, but she may have said bye; the crying was atrocious.

I called my mother as I wanted both sides of the story to figure out if I needed to get involved (take the kids, call social services, something).

Mom was calm, cool, and collected; not unlike what she has tried to be these last few years. When I asked her for their side of the story she told me. My mother and I have had a very open relationship that started when I became an adult and after I realized that drugs were not actually good for me.

I was informed that mom was standing to the side of the conflict and not directly involved. She stuck her ear in on the situation to figure out if she needed to call the authorities again (my step-father and my sister’s husband have been in numerous fist fights that have landed them in jail,at the doctor, or both). With no punches and only violent words being thrown mom listened in so that she would know what was going on and, knowing that I would be getting involved, be able to inform me of the whole story, the real story, without my sister’s spin on it.

My sister and her husband apparently came in the door screaming at each other and not for the first time. She had the youngest (ten months) in her arms and the older one (twenty-eight months) by the hand, literally dragging him inside and not paying attention to his cries that she was hurting him. My step-father had told them, on several occasions, that they were to no longer argue or yell around the babies or he would make sure social services got involved. He had had enough. Telling them to stop in a stern voice, but not yelling, he was greeted by my brother-in-law turning around and spitting at him to stay the f*ck out of my business. My reformed drug addict of a step-father was done being disrespected in his house by someone he didn’t like and was mooching off of him (I would have told my mother to take the kids and knocked my sister’s genius husband’s teeth down his throat).

My mom’s husband clenched his teeth and told my sister that she and the babies could stay, but the disrespectful asshole had to get out and not come back. Instead of thinking about her kids (shocker) my sister nearly stepped on her son as she stormed out of the house, not even grabbing diapers and wipes as she went.

That was when I got the text message. That was when she cried in my ear.

My step-father called and called and texted my sister leaving multiple messages that all said that she could come home and to think about her kids. She ignored him.

Eventually my step-father (my mother tried to stay out of it) caved in and when the epicenter of this explosion called and offered an empty apology, he told them they could come back, but that they needed to learn to respect him or they wouldn’t be there for long. I suspect that the only reason they are there now is because he couldn’t bear the thought of those children without a home.

I hope my sister and her husband change and I hope they get out of my parents house, all the while thinking and taking care of their children, but people like that rarely change and while I will always love my sister, if she ever pulls a stunt like that again with the kids, I will get social services involved and I will not wait for them to do something else to traumatize them.

Children are what come first. If you can’t take care of them, don’t have them and if it is forced upon you, their are thousands of people who would love to give that child/children a wonderful, loving home.

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