A visit to the dentist office led to a short one-sided conversation about Foster Care, and for once, the words weren’t coming from my mouth.
My hygienist is, well, we’ll just say a little different, instead of “on the verge of psychotic.” In the twenty minutes I was sitting in her chair feeling as if I was on the opposite end of a therapy session, she mentioned the word “kill” at least twice. This stemmed from feelings in reference to an article she had recently read about Tiger Woods wife.
Supposedly Tiger’s ex-wife said that when she had bashed in his windshield with a baseball bat, she didn’t want people to think she did it in an angry rage. My hygienist went on to tell me what she would have done if she were in the same situation, and it went beyond using a bat on a window. She continued with a story about how a girl had broken up with her son (when he was 11) the day after she had received gifts from him for Valentine’s Day. My hygienist said that she had wanted this girls name so she could “kill” her. It seems that she just has some anger that she needs to rid herself of, and it was obvious our little therapy session wasn’t working so well.
Soon she was talking about a friend of hers that is doing foster care. She said that her husband told her they could do foster care. She laughed and said that she would get the worst case, a child that sets fire to their bed while they are sleeping. I didn’t appreciate her view of foster children. Obviously not all of them are pyromaniacs, not all of them kill their caretakers, they are kids who need someone to love them.
I thought about telling this woman that she could do foster care and that not all foster children make it to the evening news. Then I remembered our previous conversation, or one-sided therapy session about the wrath she would love to expel upon others. I decided to keep my mouth shut.
Who knows, maybe she would be a great foster parent. Just not today.