Chapter 12 - MY SLAP Harlan filed a police complaint against me.
Of course.
Again:
He was allowed.
I had struck him.
Video?
The patio security camera captured most of the sequence.
Harlan throwing the doll.
Cecily running.
His grab.
The slap.
Her fall.
Me running.
My slap.
The prosecutor reviewed both acts separately.
My attorney did not let me pretend mine was self-defense after Cecily was already on the ground.
“You reacted to seeing your child struck.”
“Yes.”
“That is context.”
“Yes.”
“It does not automatically create legal necessity.”
“I know.”
Ultimately, authorities declined to pursue a separate assault charge against me after considering the immediate context, lack of injury to Harlan, and overall evidence.
That was discretion.
Not a declaration that hitting adults when angry is good parenting.
I apologized to Cecily for doing it in front of her.
She said:
“But Grandpa hit me.”
“I know.”
“You were stopping him.”
“I was angry at him.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
May you like
At five she hated the distinction.
I needed her to learn it anyway.
