The Joys of Parenthood

I don't usually post about the day to day stuff... but this weekend has brought a few events that bear reporting:

On Saturday night, I took Lucas to a local park for the annual fireworks extravaganza. Although the actual display doesn't begin until dark, there are a lot of festivities...music, etc... and lots of kids running around before hand. Lucas had taken off to play, and I turned around to check where he was. At that moment, I saw a kid throw a Silly String aerosol can at Luke's feet. Lucas picked up the can and threw it back, at the kid's feet. All of a sudden...in what seemed like slow motion...the kid picked up the can and in Roger Clemons style, threw it square at the back of my son's head. (the back only because Lucas spun around to protect his face)

I ran over to chase the kid and said "Where are your parents??" He stared at me and said "I'm not gonna tell YOU." At that moment, Lucas ran towards the kid to grab his shirt and the boy punched Lucas in the chest. It was horrible. Then he said, "You're bleeding" and sure enough there was a stream of blood coming from the back of Lucas' head.

Medics, police, security... no stitches, surprisingly, but it bled like a son-of-a-bitch. We knew who the kid was, so he and his parents came to the medic tent. The mother felt awful, but the dad said NOTHING. Not a thing. A police report was filed and a youth officer is going to visit the kid's house. The most amazing part? He was EIGHT years old. A little nasty 8 year old punk.

Then.... yesterday Lucas and I drove to Kingston, NY to visit my daughter in her new apartment. She recently moved out of her dad's house into a place with two roommates. The apartment? Really nice. The neighborhood? HORRIFYING. Dangerous. Crack addicts on the street...gangstas on every corner. And there's my little girl and her two girlfriends living in this war zone.

Her dad was supposed to have checked the place out. I should have known that he'd rationalized that it was ok because his wife wanted Emma to move out. (Even though she's only lived with them for 18 months.) Emma was depending on him to provide her with furniture, so he could have said no when he saw where this place was. Now I'm going to be worried about her constantly...I saw the place during the day. I cannot imagine what it's like at night. :(

So... I'm having a delightful parenting-angst weekend. I need a vacation.