I had one of those moments today. You know, when you’re not sure what the proper reaction should be, you want to scream, cry and punch someone all at the same time?

One of the neighborhood kids, we’ll call her Summer, likes to hang out at our house. She’s one of those kids who can totally annoy you with her lack of social graces, but you try to overlook it since it’s really not her fault. I can tell by watching her family interact across the street that no one has taken an interest in teaching Summer the ins and outs of dealing with other people. She’s told me I’m fat before. Now, granted, I AM fat, but at almost eight years old most kids know not to just out and out tell someone that. She walks right into our house without knocking. She comes in even when we’ve said the kids can’t play right then, or we’re in the middle of dinner. She has no couth. But again, I figure she’s not been taught these things so I do my best to model good behavior in front of her.

Well, today. She came over and we were all sitting on the front porch. She was pushing Mason lazily back and forth in his stroller when she announced “my daddy touched my privates”. I didn’t think I’d heard her right. “What?!” I ask. Then she proceeded to tell me the whole story. A short while ago she had come home from her fathers (she lives with her mother and step father) and told her mom she hurt down there. Come to find out it was her father. I felt sick. I wanted to cry and scream and punch someone. I know things like this happen, but I’ve never seen it up close and personal before. I felt so very sad for her, for what she was having to process in that eight year old mind.