An unfortunate part of group home living is the fact that some kids learn bad behavior from the other residents. A new kid could come in with no history self-harm and, over the time he is with us begin participating in it, especially if he thinks it will get him more attention.
A while back we had a kid named Trey, a lanky 11 year-old. All the kids called him booty-breath because of his god-awful breath. I had no idea that bad breath could smell just like shit before I met him. I honestly thought that he might be eating his own shit and tried in vain over the months that he was with us to catch him doing it.
Trey was one of the most depressed kids I've ever met. His sulk was so pronounced that his lower lip curled downward. He could spend an afternoon slowly circling the couches in the living room repeating to himself, "I'm just gon' decease the problem. I'm just gon' decease the problem."
One fine day, Trey got up on the roof and threatened to jump. It seemed pretty serious and the fire department was called to get him down. The excitement, noise and all the pretty lights were not lost on J. D., who happily watched the entire event.
J. D. is our Pumba-like child with a history of hard living and harder drinking (and the gut to prove it), but with the mentality of a 3 year-old.
During shower time the next day, I saw water streaming out from under the door of J. D's bathroom. I opened the door to find J. D., face down in the shower, in about an inch and a half of water, fat belly plugged over the drain. I thought he might be trying to blow bubbles.
"J. D., what are you doing? There's water all over the place!"
He squealed, "I'm just trying to decease the problem! I'm just trying to decease the problem!"
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