Social Worker’s Friday Night

Hint: Not as exciting as it might seem.

Until I am done with training (which starts monday) I am stuck doing visits. I’ve complained about this before, nothing new. Last week I was assigned my first Friday night visit. The family is actually super likable, but I wasn’t introduced prior to the visit and the worker who manages this case kind of left me to fill in the gaps on my own.

At the first visit there is an extra kid present, nearly a billion candles burning, a random man shows up, it starts 30 minutes late, and it is absolutely freezing inside the home. Also, the children have names that don’t fit into conventional boy and girl names so having the extra kid there really threw me off. I was playing catch up and trying to stay warm the entire visit.


Thankfully, last night went much smoother. The whole family really seemed to warm up to me and I felt like I had a handle on the family dynamics. For much of the visit I was the focus of a little boy. He spent the bulk of the two hour visit telling me all about Angry Birds and then narrating the tales of the above pictured police/army men. About every thirty seconds he would say, “Now, I bet I know what you’re thinking!” and then proceed to tell me whatever it was I should have been thinking. It took me several times of saying “Actually I was thinking you should join your family for dinner” before he finally gave up playing and decided he was hungry enough to eat.

After he went to the kitchen to join his siblings and mother, the grandmother came and joined me in the living room. She’s barely said two words to me up to this point, but somehow we got on the topic of her growing up on a farm. My grandparents live ons farm so I was able to semi-relate. I just remembered how we got to that–she was talking about her aversion to pork during her pregnancies (incidentally this is a common food aversion during pregnancy, according to her doctor), which led to her talking about using literally every part of the pig, which led to talking about growing up on a farm.

From what I gathered they had many chickens and pigs. She detailed the process of butchering a chicken, from cutting its head off to chopping up the body. I was thankful I had not yet eaten dinner as she was quite descriptive. She spoke about how as a child she had taken a chicken leg with the tendons still in tact to school for show and tell and was take to the principal’s office because the teacher was disturbed by it. Thankfully, the kids were done eating and invaded the living room to play once again.

Never a dull moment in social work…


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