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Snatching the Homevisit before/after It was time for Sanford's homevisit. I called his mother. "Now don't you worry none about him misbehavin'," she said "When he gets outta' line, I thresh him with the belt real good." She laughed a whiskey and ciggarrette hoarse laugh. I tried to explain that beating him might not help things. How do you make a dog mean? You kick it, beat it, shout at it, deprive it of food. She called me a panoply of descriptive names after that, all mixed in, like, 'cracker', 'white bread', and 'ol' fey'. I always liked 'ol' fey'. How dare I suggest a different way to raise her child, especially since things were going so swell, anyway.
Sanford didn't go on his homevisit that weekend.
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