I’m Not Your Best Friend

Yesterday I supervised a visit between a mother and son I hadn’t seen in a few months. The little boy quickly went to his room and busied himself playing with some toys.

Mom and I talked in the kitchen. She showed me the flowers her husband bought her for Valentine’s Day as well as a Lille talking stuffed animal. She went on to tell me that he had also bought her some “sexy underwear.”

Um yea, she’s almost old enough to be my mom. And for goodness sake, I’m not her best friend, her friend—I’m not even her caseworker!

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