WHEN THE CATS AWAY THE MICE WILL PLAY... and oh, did they ever play.
One of our guys was harassing another guy over milk. Apparently, he did this for ten or fifteen minutes. He just kept giving him a hard time. He wouldn't leave him alone.
"Why do you drink so much milk? Why don't you share milk? Now there's no milk?"
I imagine several put-downs and curse words were mixed
into this malicious monologue on milk.
The guy verbally berated and belittled; he wouldn't drop it. Finally, something in the milk drinker snapped.
Milk drinker ran over to the dishwasher, grabbed a knife out, held it up and shouted.
"Shut up! Shut up! I'm gonna cut your beepin' throat!"
At this point, the relief houseparent walks in and asks the non-milk drinker to go outside immediately.
Did he go outside?....No. Instead he stood there and said over and over, "he's threatening me with a knife. he's threatening me with a knife."
Relief Staff: "I know he's threatening you with a knife. That is why i told you to go outside. Now go outside."
Did he go outside? .... No.
The relief staff had to escort him outside.
Once his agitator was outside, milk drinker dropped the knife (thankfully) and ran out to meet him. There on the front lawn of suburban pennsylvania, two teenage males yelled obscenities and threats at each other for twenty minutes.
"I'm gonna kick your beep!"
"I'm not beepin' scared of you!"
No one called the cops. Relief staff didn't call the cops. The boys calmed down, and they were all ready for bed and in their bedrooms when I took over the house.
No one was physically hurt.
But, who can tally the mental and emotional wounds of the day? How long will those take to heal?
What will our organization do? I'll keep you posted.
I walked through the house when I took over. I searched for knives. I found one in the dishwasher, found one in the silverware drawer. I locked them up in the medicine closet. No knives are accessible.
All of this over some milk. Milk? Really?
I know it does a body good, but Come On.
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