They long for the day when there will be no skatepark here, when there will just be a lovely park with a bike path that good and holy people like themselves can enjoy without having to deal with the unwashed masses.
She, in particular, hates the kids.
You can occasionally hear loud profanity from the young ones as they engage in the rite of passage of learning to curse.
They don’t do it well, but they can do it loudly.
This offends her Christian sensibilities.
The fact that most of them are either drop outs or on the edge of dropping out doesn’t bother her.
The fact that you can hear story after story about how their parents broke up doesn’t bother her.
The fact that some have to spend as much time keeping their shoes intact from completely disintegrating as they do skating doesn’t bother her.
The fact that a couple of them slept here last night doesn’t bother her.
What bothers her is seeing and hearing the “scum” when they come to the park.
I’ve tried to help her understand, but understanding would ruin the narrative she holds dear.
Because I’m usually the only adult there, she holds me responsible for all she loathes.
“If you were a decent parent you wouldn’t allow your boy to be here. You wouldn’t sacrifice your child for the good of scum.”
I reminded her that if another Father hadn’t done exactly that we’d all be go to hell.
I felt good and holy and much better than her for saying so.
That’s when T skated over and asked if we could give one of the most troubled kids a ride to pick up some stuff.
No, I thought to myself…he’s bad news…he’s sc…
That’s when I thought I heard thunder.
Hypocrisy is a tight fitting garment and one size fits all.
The boy was much appreciative of the ride.
I was thankful for the sacrifice of the Father, without which I’d be sharing a condo in hell with a mean woman and her bike.
Maybe she’s covered too…
Make your own application…