Kamis, 10 Januari 2008

Presumptions

Presumptions are assumptions taken for granted. My husband assumes I'll pick up after his poker party because I've done it before. My mother assumes we'll see her around Christmastime because that's been a tradition for 36 years. Presumptions, well, they're presumptuous. And audacious. And discourteous.

But I'll let you be the judge.

This couple at church has one son who is in my Tuesday evening classroom. He is five and ADHDHDHDHDHDHD. Not a malicious child, quite bright, but taxing on my patience. I don't know this couple outside of passing them in the hall at church and the occasional conversation between aquaintances (people whom one knows, but not a particular friend). Three times now this woman has asked, "what are you doing on Friday/this weekend/Wednesday?" in a friendly way. I answer with my hedge, "Why?" because I assume she wants to get together. Each time she replies, "I wondered if you could take Taylor for me." One time it was for an afternoon. Another time it was for the whole weekend ("I figured you wouldn't notice an extra boy around your house"). This time she desired my babysitting services for seven hours. Noon until 7:00 p.m. Friday.

Now, some may consider her request an assumption because I volunteer to work with her child and other people's children on Tuesday nights. Perhaps she makes this assumption that I want another boy hanging around my house because I have three of my own already. One may argue that because I am "church people," it is safe to assume I love her and her child and want to serve them like a Good Samaritan.

I feel her request is presumptuous. Presumptuous to believe that in addition to working with other people's children one night a week, I desire even more quality time with them. Presumptuous to think that when I have three boys of my own, I would welcome an addition to the fray and not, perhaps, a well-deserved break. Presumptuous to think I wouldn't notice the extra ADHDHDHDHD terror running around my house. Presumptuous because where I come from, we pay babysitters to watch our children. Or ask trusted friends or relatives or enroll them in day care or nursery school. Or sit tight until Dad comes home or the children are in school all day. Presumptuous because I barely know her or her child and because I volunteer at church with three other adults in the room for accountability, my home must be a safe place for children to be. Presumptuous because this is the sort of favor one asks of a close friend or relative, not of an acquaintance. Presumptuous because the whole weekend? A seven-hour shift? I have nothing else going on?

I think this woman is discourteous, rude, and audacious. I don't like her very much now.

Readers, what do you think? Any responses I might have on hand for her next time besides Just Say No?

In other news, I've got to check out Good Reads because suddenly I keep hearing about it and noticing it all the time. And on the No-Target Front, well, I'm taking deep breaths while I try to find a locally owned and operated pharmacy to sell me the Aveeno products necessary to keep my rosacea at bay so I don't look like Bill Clinton after a barbeque dinner with a side of scotch. Today I'll get batteries and lightbulbs at the hardware store, but I have yet to track down a pharmacy nearby where I can get the rest of my shopping done.

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