Brianna is taught the consequences
Ziva’s adoption-day was yesterday; she and Jasper were allowed to share a can of tuna. She’s lived two years with us. We love her very much.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Today, I worked on revising my dissertation chapter on the Rawlsian quest for political stability. This chapter has been scrambling my little brain.
Rawls offers many different characterizations of his key ideas. It’s bad enough, having to explain which characterization of an idea is the most important one for him; explaining others’ confused interpretations is downright dizzying.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
As I was engaged with these tasks, Karin’s little sister, Brianna, knocked on our door. She’d missed her school bus – again – on purpose, to talk to her friends (Brianna is a twelfth-grader). Also, she hadn’t wanted to walk home. Instead, she’d walked in the opposite direction, to our apartment.
Karin was away for the evening and couldn’t drive Brianna home.
Karin’s and Brianna’s mother refused to come over and drive Brianna home. “Why are you punishing Brianna in this way?” Karin asked her. “I’m not punishing Brianna,” her mother said. “I’m merely helping her to learn the consequences of her actions.”
I was inclined to agree with my mother-in-law. But, in this case, the consequences of Brianna’s actions fell squarely upon me. (Farewell to a peaceful evening during which to write.)
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
“Gather up your school things,” I told Brianna. “We’re walking to your house.”
Of course, Brianna is capable of walking by herself (though, notoriously, she doesn’t).
But what could she say? It’s much easier and nicer to be kicked out of someone’s home when that person goes with you on your journey.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
On the way to Brianna’s house, we saw the friendly Mormons driving down the street. They waved at us and drove away.
Goodbye, Mormons, I thought. I wish you’d offered us a lift.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
The walk to Brianna’s house took fifty minutes. When we arrived, Brianna’s mother was in her car, pulling out of the driveway. She stared at me. “Thank you for walking my daughter home,” she said. Then she drove away, to go shopping.
I hadn’t quite expected my mother-in-law to offer me a lift home; I suppose that if she had, it would’ve interfered with Brianna’s learning of the consequences. Still, I was a little irked that she didn’t.
All together, my round trip was five miles. A few years ago, that would’ve been a cinch to walk; but now, I’m old and fat. My limbs are sore, and I am tired. These, also, are among the consequences.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Today, I worked on revising my dissertation chapter on the Rawlsian quest for political stability. This chapter has been scrambling my little brain.
Rawls offers many different characterizations of his key ideas. It’s bad enough, having to explain which characterization of an idea is the most important one for him; explaining others’ confused interpretations is downright dizzying.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
As I was engaged with these tasks, Karin’s little sister, Brianna, knocked on our door. She’d missed her school bus – again – on purpose, to talk to her friends (Brianna is a twelfth-grader). Also, she hadn’t wanted to walk home. Instead, she’d walked in the opposite direction, to our apartment.
Karin was away for the evening and couldn’t drive Brianna home.
Karin’s and Brianna’s mother refused to come over and drive Brianna home. “Why are you punishing Brianna in this way?” Karin asked her. “I’m not punishing Brianna,” her mother said. “I’m merely helping her to learn the consequences of her actions.”
I was inclined to agree with my mother-in-law. But, in this case, the consequences of Brianna’s actions fell squarely upon me. (Farewell to a peaceful evening during which to write.)
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
“Gather up your school things,” I told Brianna. “We’re walking to your house.”
Of course, Brianna is capable of walking by herself (though, notoriously, she doesn’t).
But what could she say? It’s much easier and nicer to be kicked out of someone’s home when that person goes with you on your journey.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
On the way to Brianna’s house, we saw the friendly Mormons driving down the street. They waved at us and drove away.
Goodbye, Mormons, I thought. I wish you’d offered us a lift.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
The walk to Brianna’s house took fifty minutes. When we arrived, Brianna’s mother was in her car, pulling out of the driveway. She stared at me. “Thank you for walking my daughter home,” she said. Then she drove away, to go shopping.
I hadn’t quite expected my mother-in-law to offer me a lift home; I suppose that if she had, it would’ve interfered with Brianna’s learning of the consequences. Still, I was a little irked that she didn’t.
All together, my round trip was five miles. A few years ago, that would’ve been a cinch to walk; but now, I’m old and fat. My limbs are sore, and I am tired. These, also, are among the consequences.