When the Dingo arrived I was actually glad to see her. Can you believe that? Course I didn’t know her true nature back then. J had been excluded and she was coming along to see if I needed help with him. It never occurred to me to ask which team she was with. I didn't even know there were separate teams. I thought a social worker was a social worker. J had special needs and this woman was coming to help.
That’s her thing. Like a real Dingo she looks harmless.
She doesn’t even look like a Dingo. More like a Pig. She has a round face with tiny piggy eyes, over-sized ears and dark blond hair. Her body looks like an apple resting on a couple of lolly sticks with her round stupid head on top and no apparent neck. She dresses like a student. A broke student and she has terrible teeth. I’m sure she smokes, though I’ve never smelled it on her, that’s the only reason I can think of for her terrible teeth.
She came into my home and she told me she was there to help and God help me I believed her. And I told her everything. All the trouble I had with J. What it was like when he wasn’t sleeping. How hard it was to get him to school every day. How I resented being on my own with him. How he’d driven off most possible baby sitters and I never got any time to myself. Oh God - time to myself. Be careful what you wish for.
I told her everything and I asked her what I was doing wrong and how we should deal with the urination thing and the fighting and she smiled and gave me a few platitudes.
The next thing I heard from her was also the next time I had that two pages turned at once feeling. It was the report to the children's panel. In it she used every single thing I told her as a weapon against me. Every single weakness that I admitted and asked for help with was in there as an accusation and worded as if she had somehow discovered it by brilliant detective work.
In once respect the report was a work of genius. The way she managed to suggest something without actually saying it. She cast the shadow of abuse without ever mentioning it by name. Because she couldn’t mention it. Because she new I’d had J up to the hospital to be checked over while looking for a cause for the urination. But she let the suggestion sneak into the report between the words.
In every other respect the report was laughable. The woman can’t spell. She has no grasp of punctuation or grammar. She even had J’s diagnosis down wrong.
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