I was talking to Mrs. V, the other day. Mrs. V is the 1st grade teacher I work with. We’d had an assembly that morning to recognize students for good behavior and school work, and *Sarah had won Mrs. V’s class award. Sarah’s mother was at the ceremony, and with her was someone I guessed was her dad.
I was wrong.
Mrs. V told me later, while we were watching the kids at recess, that she’d asked Sarah who had been with her mom. (It was true that the man had looked nothing like Sarah.) Sarah told her, wide-eyed, that that was John. She said John spent the night at their house a lot, and that he really liked her mom, but that “Fletch comes over a lot, too. We’re still waiting to find out which one’s my sister’s daddy.”
—> This from the same little girl who came crying to me at recess because she missed her mom and didn’t understand why she was left at after-school care every day until it closed. “She doesn’t even work,” she sobbed.
When she told me the story, Mrs. V chuckled, as though it were funny. I, on the other hand, couldn’t see the humor. Maybe Mrs. V’s been around public schools longer, and I don’t mean to judge, but . . . That poor child.
For an interesting article on the kids and broken homes, click here: How many kids grow up with their married mom and dad?