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MOMMA:  Changing The World One Casserole At a Time
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This is a dirty, naughty
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naughty secrets....
Would you care to join
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TEA ROOM?
HearthSong
For some reason there is a disproportionate number of boys in our neighborhood. Their
ages range from seven to twelve, and there are about forty of them sweeping through the
neighborhood emptying pantries.  Ok maybe there are only about fourteen of them, but
when you have to go to the store twelve times a week to buy more snacks, it feels like about
forty boys.   Also, some sadist contractor put white tiles with white grout in our home, and I
don't have to tell you what that looks like most of the time.     But that's not really the point of
the story.  T
he point of this stories is casseroles, and how we as women can
change the world one casserole at the time.


Anne is deeply disturbed by this idea, and is begging me to seek help, because she has
recently realized that I actually believe most of the crap that comes out of my mouth.  

When I say we can change the world one casserole at a time,
I really believe that we can.

Here is how this belief unfolded:

These two little boys were turning up at our houses hungry and dirty.  Apparently, the step
dad is big guy quick to use his fists on mom.  
About three weeks ago, he left them with no food and no money.  That's when the local
branch of the Housewife Mafia decided to take action. Action with casseroles.  We will
bring her food and casseroles, because what else is there to do?  None of us have had
perfectly smooth lives.  There but for the grace of God go us.   So we will step in and do
what we think is right, in the form of a casserole.  Bombard her with casseroles.  Let her
know she is not alone, and that she is cared for, and make sure those boys don't go to bed
hungry.

Through this casserole crusade, we never have been able to reach the mom.  The
neighborhood kids all have stories of how she never gets out of bed and how they can
never wake her up.  They have made a game of it.  Going in and dipping her hands in
water, putting things on her as she sleeps, and she never wakes up.  We asked the older,
more savvy boys that are around twelve, what they thought - deep depression or drugs?  
Unanimously they all said drugs, definitely drugs.  

Since then we have put more pieces of the puzzle together.  The two little boys tell us they
aren't allowed out of the house during they day because they say the police will come.  They
say they go to school in the next town over.   They are always 'home' before any of the other
kids.  Also, no one has ever actually seen the mom out of bed, so that story sounds really
quite fishy doesn't it.

We don't know how the rest of this will unfold, or what we will do with this new
information about the kids not going to school.  Something will have to be done, but the
right thing is not very clear at the moment.  We are hesitant to bring in the police or social
services, as we have all heard too many stories about children becoming even more
vulnerable to harm in a burdened system.   The boys are seven and eleven years old.  We
don't want them trying to cook for themselves so last night I brought over about 20
microwavable tv dinners.  I hope they have forks to eat them with. If mom doesn't get out of
bed I imagine there aren't any clean dishes either.  Well know it doesn't take long for the
house to get really quite messy.  My house looks like a pit after one day of neglect so one
can only imagine......

The most important thing,
for now, is that we alerted to the situation because we
took the time to listen and to care.  
The instinctive casserole reflex has led us thus
far to become aware and to respond to the best of our abilities to this woman
and her children with compassion.
 Without this, these children would have fallen
through the cracks completely.

We hope you and your friends embrace your own casserole
instincts.   It is a means for all of us to embrace and express
concern for the world around us.  


Let's change the world and make it a better, safer place,
one casserole at a time.

Best wishes,

Momma

Copyright 2007
Well, my walking group has declined
in to a bit of a drinking group,
but some good is still coming out of it.
 
Maybe we just have too much time on our hands, or
maybe we are just nosy, but we have managed to get
the scoop on most of the neighbors.