american crime

Mr. Beeton started his first week at Johns Hopkins. That means - for all intents and purposes - I'm doing the stay-at-home mom thing from here until the fall semester starts. Darn, if it isn't hard. Tonight, all I wanted was for everyone to go to sleep so that I could plop myself in front of the television and completely zone out.

I thought I'd watch the first episode of American Crime - a show my students highly recommended. It seemed fitting, given this week's (month's? year's? decade's? century's?) cultural climate and devastating circumstances.

Yesterday, Boy Beeton and I were role playing. He was being Peter Parker to my Mary Jane. In my narrative, Mary Jane's mother heads off the circus so that Mary Jane has to move in with Peter and Aunt May. That's how she and Peter become best friends.

Peter asks me, "Hey, Mary Jane. Is your mom at the circus?"

I respond, "Yes."

Then, he says, "Where's your dad?"

I pause to think - this is a part of the narrative I hadn't yet considered.

Before I can even come up with an answer, Peter says, "Oh... wait. You might have two moms. Maybe both your moms are in the circus?"

He said it with such matter-of-factness in his voice, no hesitation that not all families look alike, that this family structure, different from his own, wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

Oh, how I wish that all Americans would embrace Peter's loving acceptance. In his eyes, I saw a small glimmer of what our future could be. Our world could use a little more love and a lot less hate.

Thinking about Charleston tonight.

Keep sweeping,

Martha

Finished reading The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins. Watched most of Wild.