I Wanted To...But didn't
Many of my fellow Bloglodytes already know that I work with handicapped kids for a living. Anyhow, the other day I was working with one of my kids who just won't eat!
We're not sure if it's symptomatic of his condition or just one helluva picky eater. So I'm trying every trick in the book (for the millionth time) to try to get this child to just take a bite.
I'm not sure if it was frustration or my inner Marine working it's way to the surface -- but I came within a hairsbreadth of telling him "if you don't eat this, God will kill a kitten."
posted by Kevin Whiteman at
8:12 AM
12 Comments:
Who the hell cut the ears off that kitten? Geez.
Oh Cavey... such restraint! And where did you get that gorgeous picture?
;-D
I don't know the handicaps the children in your care have but there is something that MIGHT work for you. It's a little psychological ploy that I have used with some success on very small children. I'll just offer the one example:
One second grader refused to pick up his markers and work on a class project. I enlisted the aid of other children...by whispering the plot to them one by one as I bent near to inspect their progress on the task. The well-selected agents were happy to go along with the plan. One by one they faked that their markers did not work and so made their way to the stubborn child's table and relieved him of one of his markers or sheet of project paper. It didn't take more than the visit of more than three of these children before the obstinate one became suddenly protective of his materials and decided that maybe he should put his items to use or they will soon be all gone. Sort of like Tom Sawyer and the whitewashed fence.
Just a thought.
God love you. I had no idea a man could with patience and love work with special children and rip the intestines out of evil Libtards at the same time. Do you have to switch clothing in the teacher's lounge or do you have your own phonebooth? ;)
Pushups?
Am forwarding this topic to ret usaf nco who also manages sped kids.
Well, Vir, if you didn't take the cat to work, you could have taken it home and let it be a plush squeek toy for your Dachshund.
(only foooooling!)
I prefer the "Jesus will kill a puppy" route. Puppies are way cuter!
I prefer the "Jesus will kill a puppy" route. Puppies are way cuter!
I farmed out my beautiful yellow lab bitch several years ago to the original breeder who had previously helped me sell off her first two litters ... farmed her out this time to whelp the litter, trusting him as I thought I was too busy to do it the third time.
Long sad story made short: His 12 year old adopted daughter, a sped kid who had been grieviously abused early in her life, prevented the puppies from suckling the bitch, and six of them died because of it, before I realized what was happening and rescued my bitch and the three remaining puppies. Those three blossomed and I gave them away to good people. My Juniper has recurring nightmares ... sometimes I can tell that she is counting her puppies and trying to find the missing ones ... I'm convinced that animals care at least this much about their families, and suffer trauma such as described. Doesn't stop me from hunting or eating buffalo burgers though. Actually it is not that easy to ahem dispatch ... now they call it harvest game animals, especially wounded ducks that look at you while you are trying to snuff them out quickly and painlessly and haven't learned the technique.
The previous year, the breeder later confessed, that same girl took shears and cut the toes off of one of his own puppies (toes and not claws).
He did not learn. His wife is an elementary school teacher, and she went into denial.
So, killing puppies by torture is not simply an expression going around.
Fifteen years ago, on a run with one of my dogs out in the nearby boonies, we came into a clearing with signs of a satanic ritual. A freshly killed cat, young, beautiful coat, not yet in rigor mortis ... only the front half of the cat was there, precisionly sliced in two right behind the shoulders. On the ground I found a spent packet of condoms. My college major was anthropology, so I pretty much could analyze and evalutate the scene.
In a nearby town, a man was caught one evening with his pants down in a barn. The owner, because of signs, had staked out her horse barn and was ready with shotgun. This idiot had been sexing it up with her horse. There had been a rash of it the previous year. Now the moron was caught.
Mac,
That kitten is a Scottish Fold. Do an image search and prepare for CUTE OVERLOAD.
Ade, That is a specific breed of cat called a Scottish Fold.
That aside, you better be kidding Altar Boy. You would be risking the wrath of Papa Benedetto as well as mine if you were serious.
Sonjia,
That's worth a shot... thanks!
Have a suggestion for the picky eater~ don't set a place for him. He'll probably notice and you can tell him that you didn't want to bother him with a plate. It can be done gently and tactfully. He'll probably decide that he might try a little something, just for today. Have seen this little trick work. Good Luck!
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