Tales from the Shark Tank

This was a good holiday weekend, but it did suffer a number of visitations from the Drama Llama.  Before any of my gentle readers worry, this time none of the drama was mine.  I was involved, but as support, not dramatis personae, as it were.

It began on Wednesday with a phone call from K.  Her nephew, aged 17 months, had climbed a chair for the first time and fallen off on his head.  He was dazed, so his parents took him to the E.R. to get checked.  The E.R. staff, in turn, called child protection.  They came, they saw, and they did not permit the parents to take the baby home…not because the child’s condition was suspicious or not consistent with the parent’s account, but because, so they said, it was standard procedure for a head injury.  At least they let his grandmother take him, but K. was scared and called asking for the names of attorneys who might be able to help if CPS didn’t drop their investigation.

Half an hour later another friend called.  Her husband’s grandfather had just left this earth, and while it was not the least unexpected, (he had cancer and was 91) it was still a shock.  They were hosting us and some other friends for Thanksgiving dinner.  Her husband decided he wanted to go ahead with that, and it was wonderful - one of the best such gatherings I’ve been at, including the ones I’ve hosted.  Among the highlights was watching my son play Munchkin with three adults, holding his own in both the game and the banter.  He asked me at dinner what I was thankful for.  I looked around the table at the chosen family, and the first thing I thought of was “This.  These people, together because they treasure each other, who include us.”

My husband drew the short straw and had to work Friday, so he went home Thursday night.  Friday our son had a sleepover for his best friend’s birthday, so that morning I took our boychick to see my folks, and then took him home, going directly to best friend’s house.  But M’s grandfather’s memorial was Saturday in Louisville, so I had dinner with my much-loved and very tolerant husband and headed back south.

Saturday found me, as soon as I woke up and showered, heading down to Kentucky.  Drama-llama visitation number 2.  It was expected, but watching it unfold was still kind of like watching a train wreck; you couldn’t stop watching even knowing that the results were going to have a serious case of the uglies.  L. and I went down together in her car, meeting M. and his cousin (another attorney and licensed in the relevant state) at Starbucks to discuss setting up the estate.  We had a mission - heading off the already-developing drama with a nameless relative.  She wants her inheritance, and she wants it now.  She’s been so totally horrid to everyone involved that her sister has blocked her phone number and her son has told her “next time you need a truck, don’t call me.”  She has great social skills; she can alienate anyone in under 5 minutes without trying.  L. said her great regret was that she didn’t get the opportunity to tell the woman to moderate her tone before a nice girl from Kansas dropped a house on her and stole her shoes.  We got through the memorial, though, and had a lovely dinner with M’s family.  They really are fabulous people.

Sunday was mostly a day to relax and recover, but brought the third visit from that blasted Andean beast, again in the form of a phone call.  It seems the current spouse of the ex-husband of one of my “kids” had called her to say that she (current spouse) was at her best friend’s house with the 2 year old, that ex-husband was drunk and “acting stupid” (a thing at which he excels), and not to take the teenager who lives with her dad home from her visitation weekend.  So the teen’s mom was checking to see what kind of trouble she might be buying for herself if she didn’t take the child back.   Dealt with that.

I’m glad I know how to deal with the sorts of things people bring me.  I’m glad to be supportive.  I did, tremendously, enjoy the holiday.  But y’know?  That drama-llama can just go back from whence it came.