The Monkey spent the last few days down on Long Island with his father. A good time appears to be had by all. However, something slightly desturbing has come to light.
Yesterday evening John’s mother dropped The Monkey off at home with his backpack and car seat in tow. Today when I got the seat, I noticed it was full of broken glass - both large pieces and teeny, tiny shards. Immediatley I was concerned.
I called John, assuming something had broken and not been properly cleaned up. Maybe a glass bottle broke and no one realized the aftermath was as far reaching as the chair, whatever. So I enquired as to whether or not John had any idea bout the glass. He didn’t and said he’d ask his mother, who also had no idea where the glass came from.
The seat left here free from glass, and was returned chock full of the stuff. I asked him again. It was at this point in the conversation where he began to scream at me how he had given me an answer and it wasn’t good enough for me and how his answers are never good enough for me.
Damn Straight.
His son rode up here from LI in a seat full of glass for an hour and a half. That’s operating on the assumption that the glass found its way into the seat right before he left. It could, in theory, have been there since Thanksgiving, or Friday, or Saturday. What’s more, even if the glass got there accidentally, John wasn’t aware of it. How anyone could have missed such a thing as a car seat full of GLASS, is beyond me.
He went on to tell me that he and his mother and her boyfriend “don’t use glass”.
Well. That’s a relief. If you don’t use glass surely it couldn’t have been your fault there was glass in the seat. I must be imagining the glasses I drank from down there. Or the windows, etc that also appeared to made from glass. Silly me.
I’m not going to lie, I’m pissed. Something as egregiously irresponsible as this just blows my mind.