Yesterday, I volunteered at the kids' school all day, spending the morning in Patrick's class and the afternoon in Josie's. There were a couple of other parents there as well, and one of them I went to lunch with while we were passing the hour and a half between when the kindergarten kids went to lunch and the fourth graders got back from recess (staggered times). I learned something at that lunch that is just killing me.

I had thought that a boy I really like in Josie's class, S, had a crush on her because he always wants to come with me to read, and asks a lot of questions about her and what we do at home. I wish this were the case. In actuality, it's more me he wants to be with.

It turns out that his mother died a couple of years ago from cancer, and as a result his father and two older brothers have become alcoholics who show up to even kids' sporting events drunk, including a baseball game last year that S and the son of the mom who was telling me the story were in together, where the father and brothers were ejected from the game due to drunk and disorderly conduct. The poor boy, it's no wonder he acts out sometimes at school and always wants to hang out with me while I'm there. He wants mother-types to pay attention to him. He lives up the street from us, a couple of blocks down, and occasionally when we're talking he says that he's going to come over to our house. In the past, I've always joked about what he thinks he's going to do here, and that he'd be bored. The next time, though, I'm going to tell him that he can come over whenever he wants. If that boy wants attention from a mom, he can definitely get it at our house. After that story, I don't care if he moves in with us. Even if he and Josie didn't have a lot to do together, Patrick would be thrilled to have him over to play video games with.

It just breaks my heart. That poor family.