I was supposed to have a double session with Sam today but it’s snowing like all get-out where he is, not to mention that it’s colder than a well-diggers “yes ma’am” outside. I called him and asked him if we could reschedule.
As soon as we hung up, my son called me. He was calling me to tell me how things went in court yesterday, although he had promised me that he would call me as soon as it was over.
I had to track down his roommate to get the information I got last night. I didn’t mention to J***** that I had already talked to M******.
He apologized for not calling with the excuse “I forgot.” HE FORGOT?
He complained about his public defender and said she didn’t know what she was doing. He had mentioned before that he called her several times and she never returned his call but I know nothing as far as her legal acumen.
He said he got a five hundred-dollar fine for the DUI. I told him that I thought he should call his “daddy” and ask him for the money for just that and then concentrate on the probation costs, class costs, court costs and the community service.
He said he didn’t want to ask Loser for any money.
I reminded him that I had paid his rent, bought him a phone, paid for three months service and had paid for his cigarettes and food. I also reminded him that he wasn’t just MY son.
He said “I don’t talk to dad that much.” I said well, talk to him now. He said “no.”
I asked him if he was going to look for a job and he said he was “tired” of the food industry and thought maybe he wanted to go back to school and become a lawyer.
He said he had been pre-approved for a Stafford loan. WHAT?
I think that since Loser wanted to be a lawyer and instead got trapped in the newspaper business (like his daddy) J***** thinks that if HE could be a lawyer, he would somehow be worthy in Losers’ eyes. That poor kid.
I was dumbfounded. I asked him what he was talking about. I said “you have no job, no car, no drivers’ license, you’re facing community service, probation, court costs and a DUI course…and you’re talking about going back to school. When do you think you’ll have time?”
I asked him if he really thought those people were going to give him a loan. He said “yeah, I’ve already been pre-approved and I can live off of the loan.” I said “J***** you’re living in a fantasy world.”
He yelled at me and asked me why I kept “putting him down.” He decided to take on Losers’ persona and call me “a fucking bitch.” He went on to dance around with the general consensus that “mom is clearly insane” and all but said it.
I said “well, nobody seems to think that K**** is insane so call her. Tell her the outcome of court and then tell her that you have big plans to go to school to become a lawyer. If she gives you an enthusiastic “atta boy” then I will eat every single word I said.” He called me a bitch again and said he would call K****, as if threatening me.
He said “you’re so busy putting me down that you won’t even give me the chance to tell you some good news.” I asked him what the good news was and he said “I’m going to be able to get food stamps for six months” (which he will give to his sons’ mama.) I guess I didn’t praise him enough or something because he again, said “why do you have to be so fucking negative with me all the time?”
I told him that he needed to get his priorities in order. I reminded him that the last time he got out of jail, I let him come live with me…rent free. I helped him buy a scooter. I paid for his food and cigarettes. I told him that I had gently tried to remind him of the court costs he owed and suggested that he send the court some money every payday. I tried, until he shouted to me that he was a grown man and didn’t need my constant “putting him down tactics.” He still hasn’t paid them.
He sounded like he may have been under the influence of something. It was the angry J*****…the one who’s abusive…the one who hurts me…the one who lashes out at me because he’s mad at Loser.
I reminded him once again that I had arranged for him to get free rehab as well as mental help. He started yelling at me and said I had no idea what it was like to be handcuffed and have my head slammed into the ground. I said “I’m not talking about jail…I’m talking about rehab.” He claims the same thing goes on in rehab. I told him that all the times I had visited him, I had never once seen a mark on his face or body. It’s just his excuse to not go to rehab.
He’ll call me again later and like Loser, either act like the conversation never took place or offer a quasi apology. If I had a nickel for every disingenuous apology I have ever gotten, I would be rich beyond the dreams of avarice.
If I had a nickel for every genuine apology I’d ever gotten…I’d have a nickel.