Chapter 13 - MY ICE BAG
My own case was smaller.
Still mine.
I had shoved Darlene with a bag of ice after Liora was safely in my arms.
The prosecutor considered context.
Defense of child had ended.
Immediate threat was not active in that second.
I accepted a misdemeanor assault disposition.
Probation.
Anger-management course.
Restitution for damaged dessert table and broken glass.
My friends said:
“Ridiculous.”
No.
Accountability cannot depend on whether the person I hit deserved sympathy.
I wanted Liora to understand that protecting her and retaliating for her were different.
At six, she asked why I had to attend “calm class.”
“Because I threw something at Grandma.”
“She freezered me.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“So you were safe when I did it.”
She frowned.
“Still Grandma bad.”
“Yes.”
“Still Dad bad?”
“I made a bad choice.”
She thought.
“Both?”
“Yes.”
Children can handle more moral complexity than adults give them credit for.
Then she asked for cereal.
May you like
Lesson over.
Good.
