Mr.Jones and Me, and Shorty McShort-short

Boy I really did it this time. I cannot deny you the story no matter how humiliating since I had to bring it up. But the whole theme of this story is speaking too soon, with just a dash of having weird stuff on your shoulders. On with it.
One afternoon in August as I was preparing for company, I heard a knock at the front door. Before I could even set my sights into the hallway, the kids had answered it and were well into their usual four-headed interrogation process of the poor soul on the porch. Peering through the 8-armed beast I managed a "hello there, can I help you?" as I had never seen this presumably hip guy at my door or anywhere else. Nicely enough he says something like 'yea, I was hoping I could talk to you a minute regarding Joseph'. (Uh-oh.) "Sure", I say and usher the little investigative team back into the house with not a small verbal struggle, and step out for a chat.
He introduces himself as Steve Bowman, which sounded vaguely familiar, but I was more intent on hearing about how my son had apparently been teasing his little girl on the school bus and he just thought he should stop by and talk about it. Of course I felt horrible (yet surprised cause Joseph's the nice one) and apologized and let him know that Joseph would be talked to. Among the offenses was tripping her, trying to make her get off the bus at the wrong stop, and calling her "Shorty McShort-short" which he quoted with a slight grin and which immediately made me cringe because I've heard this verbal abuse in our house before. He insisted it wasn't a big deal and that he just wanted to say hello in hopes that it would stop because his little girl was upset.

designer.accessories
I continued to apologize and sympathize and let him know that both our boys had been at the other end of a bit of bullying on the bus so I understand. I also told him how nice it was of him to stop by in person to talk and how lots of parents don't do that sorta thing. We got to talking which led to trading occupation information. He said he's in the music industry (very common in these parts) and they just moved from CA. It gets a little fuzzy right after I asked him who he's played for, because the COUNTING CROWS flew out of his mouth ::My favorite. My college years. My inspirational music in my first I'm-an-adult-now-and-have-my-own-art-studio studio. The music I was convinced was written for me because I kept hearing "Anna" and "Maria" and "Picasso" and zillions of color references. And as it happens, the band that in-utero Joseph danced to in my belly during their concert:: Like I said, fuzzy. And ya know what, I told him all that-well mostly the Adam writing lyrics for me part. He was amused and unpretentious and glad for it. So, kindly he asked me what I did. Said I was a designer and he (even) pointed to my neck/shoulder area and said "textiles?" I replied "yea" with an open mouth grin like how did you know. Then I remembered I had fabric on one shoulder and a tape measure around my neck. Anyway. Yea. I was cool, baby, cool. The above picture shows my fashion accessories of choice when I answered the door. Nice, nice guy and he said his wife would love to meet me, etc, we exchanged info and joked that we were glad Joseph was a stinker to his daughter.

Oh yea, back to the little bullying thing. So I talked to Joseph who denied through very strenuous tears that he even knew who this little girl was and that he ever did anything mean to anyone. We talked for a really long time and I was convinced he was telling the truth especially after the sibling co-bus-riders backed up his story. Also, there is apparently another Joseph on the bus. Hmmm.
So I emailed Steve and his wife to let them know how the questioning went down and that maybe there is another Joseph that needs talking to, etc. and say that its hard for me to have Joseph write an apology when I'm sure he's telling the truth, he has the habit of being very honest so on and so on. There. All better. Jeff comes home and I begin with 'you're never gonna guess who I met today' and for some weird reason he's totally concerned with why he was there and foolishly passing up the simple exciting fact that he was there. I mutter something quickly like "hrmmerniminuh JOSEPH thigsallmoo BULLY shumana DAUGHTER" trying to get on with the important part and he immediately sets dad-eyes on Joseph who is behind me obediently putting away clean silverware. "JOSEPH did you do any of that?!" And I swear I must have felt the spit of the second round of tears against my back but this time it was accompanied with a "YES I DID ALL THAT STUFF. I'M SOOOORRRrrryyy" Blah Blah Blah. Can you imagine!? I was so understanding yet firm (I thought) in my questioning and he completely pulled the wool over me! All Jeff had to do was ask in that 6foot5 voice of his and an instant confession appears out of no where like rain after a drought.
Ashamed, Joseph and I both had to go and write our apologies. Both were accepted. Nice, nice people. And my husband? I love him. He really has written songs about me and I love those too.
whew. kids.
Anna Maria