Am I a Chicken?

Ahhh…a “Kelly” weekend.
Normally a fairly quiet weekend, minimal problems, just the odd trippy conversation when she flicks from her 12 year-old self to her younger 7 year old self. No, it’s not Dissociate Identity Disorder, she just has some learning and emotional delays and you never quite know when the 7 year old is going to pop up.

“Kelly” now gets dropped off for respite on Saturday morning and I take her to school Monday morning with Sunday being go to the farm day.

This weekend however, Ma and Pa are getting visitors on Sunday that I’m reluctant to introduce “Kelly” to. One can be racist (I’d hate for him to make rude remarks, even in jest to or about “Kelly”) and the other can be, well, a sticky beak. While “Kelly” tells me she is used to kids at school asking why she’s in foster care and she just tells them it’s none of their business, I really don’t want to put her in a situation where an elderly person is asking those nosey rosey questions.

Am I being too protective?
Am I being a chicken?

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