Cops: Preschool Edition!!

The following dialogue is a transcript of an episode filmed last week while our crews shadowed a local preschool.

Dispatch: Ah...Yeah, Patrol 1, we got a report of a two white males fighting over in the 4 year old room. Can you head over and uh..check it out?

Patrol 1: This Patrol 1, we're on the way. Over.

Later on the scene......

Officer on Scene: Was anybody fighting in here?

The Teacher steps forward

Teacher: It was those two over there, I saw the whole thing. I had to pull them apart. All heard was some arguing and then next thing I know, Jonathan has Gabe on the ground and is pounding him. I mean I could hear the blows raining down! .....It was awful. I tried to separate them...

Officer: (Addressing suspect ID's as Jonathan) Is this true? Look at me, son! Were you fighting with that person over there? (Pointing at Gabe.)

Jonathan: Gabe took the Bacon and...

Officer: Whoa, Stop right there. (Shines flashlight in Jonathan's eyes...) You were fighting over plastic bacon?! Why?

Jonathan: He came into My Center. Just comes charging in, getting all up into my Kitchen!! He knows the rules, there's only supposed to be 4 kids per center. We had our four already, so there was no more room. Then, when I tried to kick him out, he goes and takes Alex's bacon. So I went to get it back. He knows you're not supposed to take stuff either!

(Turning to address Gabe)

That's right, Mo-Fo! You keep your sorry ass outta my house. Next time there won't be no teacher to save you!

Gabe lunges at Jonathan, there's a scuffle. Officer on Scene manages to separate them again. He continues to interview Jonathan

Officer: So he took Alex's bacon, what's that got to do with you? Why couldn't Alex handle it?

Jonathan: Ain't no man comin' into my house, disrespectin' my women and gettin' away with it!

Officer: Alex is a woman?! What about the teacher, Jonathan? Why didn't you get her involved? It's her job to enforce class rules, not yours!

Jonathan: The administration doesn't listen, Man! They always turn a blind eye! Its all like, " I don't want to hear it!" So what I supposed to do? Just take it?!

Officer: Well, you're not supposed to fight!

(Speaking to dispatch) I'm going to go ahead and bring the Suspect in for further questioning.

(To Jonathan) Go on! Get in back of the car, we'll continue this conversation back at the (Patrol) house!

Follow Up: After several days of investigation, Jonathan, who had been released on his own recognizance, was involved in another altercation. Police arrived on scene and collected one pair of cowboy boots used in an assault on another child. Jonathan, with his history of violence, is now a watched man. The police closely monitor his activities. Gabe, the Bacon Stealer is in the process of being transferred to another facility. Under further questioning the Teacher admitted Gabe was the instigator and was a habitual trouble maker. Alex continues to play with the Kitchen Center and is currently in love with Jonathan, making him as many plates of plastic bacon as he can handle. This will be the first of many Bad Boys she will be infatuated with over her life time. Watcha Gonna Do???

Rejected!

I have tried to think of something funny to say about this for a couple days but I got nothing. An inevitable part of the sales process is rejection. I get told "No" so much in the daily routine of my job, that its like being in high school two weeks before Prom all over again. And for the most part, its OK. Twelve years of public school and a long, difficult bout of puberty coupled with Pro-Wing Shoes and $5.00 haircut has prepared me to handle it. However, this past Friday, I received my first "No" pertaining to my current sales mission.

This work from home gig depends on me showing my bosses I can be successful. I have built in just a 10% success rate, in reality I can do much less and this experiment will be deemed successful. Even though this is just one account out of over 150 - I feel the pressure. I have worked very hard on this project, I have guided it from start to finish. Now I am at the stage where it all starts to come down to a one word answer.

If you adjust for inflation, I am still sporting the equivalent of a $5.00 haircut, and at the moment I am not even wearing shoes, but I hope that somewhere a buyer says, "Yes" to me.

A Day in the Life...

This is my typical day:


5:30 - wake up, curse my alarm clock in strongest language possible. Curse at how cold the house is. Curse the fact I've never won the lottery.


5:35 - Make coffee. Curse Mr. Coffee and his Mother for being too slow.


5:45 - surf web while I wake up. Bengals still suck, Stock Market sucks, the Enquirer sucks, Eva Mendes ...Good.


6:00 - compose to do list, review files etc. Think about all I want to get done and all I have to get done for the day. Just as I start working in earnest...


6:15 - Emma wakes up. I put her in her seat next to me and continue working.


6:45: Try to wake my son who is in deep hibernation. Discover that not only does he have wet PJ's from a night time accident but also wet blankets, stuffed animals and pillows, carpet, etc. Apparently he had some sort of epileptic pissing fit in the middle of the night, but never managed to wake himself up.


7:00 Assist in getting wife off too work and son off to school. Start laundry from above disaster.


7:16 - Emma's already tired. Apparently sitting there watching me work wore her ass out.


7:20 Put her down again. Go up and down the steps 7 to 9 times in 5 to 6 minute intervals until either she falls asleep or I cannot ascend the stairs any longer.


7:50ish-??? - Work furiously as you never know when she'll wake up. Could be 40 minutes, could be 2 hours.

9:00ish - Emma needs to be held and I need to finish a quote. I proceed to strap Emma to carrier and try to work while standing.

Potential Customer: Is that a baby in the background?

Me: Baby?! No, that must be my TV. Hang on let me turn it down. (Where's that goddamned pacifier!?)

or

Me: Yeah! I am on the move today and working at a coffee shop for a little bit and this poor lady is having a tough time. (Seriously Kid! Where's the pacifier?)

or

Me: What? I don't hear anything...maybe it's interference. (On hands and knees at this point looking for the fucking pacifier. The books say little to no motor control at 3 months but she can wing a pacifier 10 ft, farther if I am on the phone.)

Repeat until roughly 6:30pm, inter spacing feedings every 4 hours or so.

Surprisingly, I have been somewhat productive. Which I attribute to the frenzy with which I work when I get the opportunity. I almost caught my cell phone and my right ear on fire yesterday during a 2 hour nap.

Givin' Da Bidness!!

I have done no business in the am, but have been given much thus far.

Yesterday, Emma slept for 2 hours during her morning nap - I had no urgent projects. Of course today, when I actually have a major quote to work on – she’s being a total butt. Tired, unwilling to go down, wants to be held in a certain manner, in my right arm, while I am standing.

Looks like this will be an afternoon project, or at least late morning.

I shall strive to maintain my zen like calm. "Patience learn you will..." counsels my inner Yoda.

Things That Outrage Me V: Kids Toothpaste

My son's bathroom looks like a rabid dog has ate Papa Smurf and the whole Smurf gang, drooling, spitting and spreading electric blue froth all over the place. The sink is caked in it, the counters have blue iridescent stalagmites forming, the floors and mirrors are splattered.

This particular Crest product features the spiderman logo. Apparently Spiderman is a fag - who knew he was into sparkly things in dashing shades of blue typically not associated with the webslinger. It says, I may be a super hero, but on my own time I am super fabulous. Maybe that's why he never hit that Russian chick in spidey 2. Maybe this Mary Jane thing is like a Tom Cruise/Katie Holmes thing without the spaceships and Will Smith calling every 5 minutes.

Seriously, who makes a kid product that color, knowing they will only proceed to get it all over everything. The worse part is, once it hardens, the product takes on an epoxy-like hardness. You need an industrial grinder to remove it!! Mr. Scrubbing Bubbles took one look at it and crawled his sorry ass back in the can. Now he won't come out even to clean our bathroom!

Looking in the Mirror

I just checked on my daughter, because its 8:00am and she's still sleeping. I was concerned she was dead, suffocated by either her blankets or possibly a cat. But no, she's sound asleep. That affording me the opportunity to brush my teeth and use the restroom in relative peace and quiet.

As I looked at myself in the mirror while brushing, I realized, " Man, you have really let yourself go!"

"When's the last time you shaved or had a shower?"

"How many days in a row are you going to wear those jeans and that sweatshirt?"

"Are you even wearing clean underwear?"

I am a disgusting mess. While there is a lot to do during the days when you are home alone, perhaps I should add "Take Shower" and "Change Clothes" do my list for today and perhaps every other day moving forward. At this point, I absolutely cannot be a pleasant thing for my wife to come home to, even if dinner is on the table.

The Revolution Begins

Civil Disobedience and Non Violent Protest has a rich and storied heritage. Gandhi lead hunger strikes, Rosa Parks refused to move and Martin Luther King marched. My son, in what may be the first act of resistance to my staying home with Emma and without him, peed his pants in the middle of preschool. This came on the heels of a crying fit when he was dropped off.

I had just put Emma down for her first nap of the day when the call came in. It was his teacher needing a change of clothes. That meant I had to wake Emma up, put her in a car seat, drive to school, and control the urge to beat my son. Unlike other authority figures faced with civil disobedience I refrained from blasting him with high pressure hoses, sicking guard dogs on him, beating him or throwing canisters of tear gas in his classroom. Who says history degrees are useless! Fat lot of good it did all those past governments!

I instead deployed tactical psychology and weaponized guilt. We had a quiet chat, where I told him how glad I was to have a big boy, how impressed I was with all he was learning at school and was surprised that such a grown up kid would have an accident. Then I gave him a hug, told I loved him and asked him to do better. I told him that Emma was too little to go to school like her big brother, but she'd be there soon and I expected him to show her how it all worked. All that, a pat on the butt and back to class he went.

If that doesn't get results, maybe I'll look into that water cannon.