Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Big Sloppy Bucket of Crazy

Mamma and I stayed up late one night over the weekend -- late enough to watch a Saturday Night Live episode -- and we heard this phrase.  ONE BIG BUCKET OF CRAZY!

And I haven't stopped using it EVERY chance I can.  It totally works in sooooo many situations--from work to home.  In the grocery store. While commuting to and from work.  And, duh, when you're in Walmart!

We have a new little girl with us.  She joined us last Thursday.  She's 4.  Mom's in jail for beating up a neighbor.  A pregnant neighbor.  With a stroller.  She was drunk.  Yea, I'm putting mom in the big sloppy bucket of crazy.

She hasn't stopped crying since last Thursday.  No, I mean it.  She hasn't. stopped. crying. 

Today she met with her attorney 'cause he'll represent her in court tomorrow.  We could hear the conversation from the other room (okay, we were eavesdropping) and her stories were amazing.  She's decided that mom is home watching TV (she's in jail), wanted to go home with the attorney (can you say attachment issue), started referring to herself in the third person, and, interestingly, edit some stories about mom's other (frequent) bouts with the bottle for the attorney. I looked at Mama and said, "she is one crazy chicken."  Yup, she's going in the big sloppy bucket of crazy.

The attorney will tell how all she wanted was to see mom, to call mom, to go home.  The judge will hear how attached she is to mom.  The recommendation will probably be for her to be reunified after mom is released jail. 


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