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Ok. Kid is (naturally) no better. I think he's getting worse. Why wouldn't he get worse? He's not being treated for a disease. Untreated diseases get worse.
There is a frosty detente in the air. I try not to bother him, he tries not to bother me. But, being the mother, I am bothered. I pick up the slack.
I'm going to go to Al-anon. I know I am responsible for my own feelings. He cannot "make" me feel any certain way.
On a purely practical level - my car still dead. We changed the alternator. Still no go.
OTOH - I watched a show about some people in Appalachia. It's not that bad here.
Yet.
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In Barrie's play and novel, the roles of fairies are brief: they are allies to the Lost Boys, the source of fairy dust and ...They are portrayed as dangerous, whimsical and extremely clever but quite hedonistic.
"Shall I give you a kiss?" Peter asked and, jerking an acorn button off his coat, solemnly presented it to her.
—James Barrie
Wimminfolk they be tricksy. - ZenGum
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