Second Chance

Inspection

There's a knock at the door interrupting our morning breakfast. Well our morning battle of the wills. She is in a mood this morning.

"I'll get it. You keep feeding her. She needs to eat more." He gives me a kiss and runs a hand over Brooke's head before heading for the door.

"Papa's going to miss all the fun baby girl. Let's try some more oatmeal. Open wide."

We've been trying to get her to eat oatmeal for the last few days. She really doesn't want it. We've tried topping it with fruit, sugar, syrup, yogurt and even milk. Nothing works. Oatmeal's suppose to be a great way to help her gain weight. Too bad she doesn't agree. It's been a constant battle with her.

"No!" She turns her head from side to side and swats my hands away. It's been a messy breakfast to say the least. There's oatmeal in her hair and all over the table and her clothes. I even have oatmeal in my hair and I'm sure that Steve has some in his too. All of our faces are covered in oatmeal. We make a messy picture. At least it's a happy picture.

Steve clears his throat when he walks back into the kitchen. I turn to look at him to ask who was at the door but I see he's not alone. There's a guy standing next to him. He's about a head shorter than Steve and has dark blond hair. It's short and brushed back. He has a long sleeved dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dress pants. He's wearing a tie. It just looks weird. He has a clipboard and scanner with him and his badge is hanging from his belt.

"Dylan this is the social worker DHP sent over." He doesn't look happy about this. There's a glint in his eye the screams of distrust. It's understandable. Who wouldn't be upset when unexpected guest stopping by. Let alone someone from DHP. Every time we have to deal them I have wanted to arrest them. I can't stand their views or the way they treat these kids.

The guy goes to reach out and offers his hand to shake mine. But quickly pulls it back when he notices I have my hands full and covered in oatmeal. Smart move. I wouldn't shake my own hand either. Now he just looks awkward and uncomfortable. I'm glad serves him right for interrupting our morning.

"So this looks bad. Normally things are clean. Well, cleaner. If we had a little warning things would have been cleaned up by now." I gesture around the kitchen as I speak.

The kitchen's a mess. The dishes from last night are still in the sink. This morning's breakfast is all over the stove and the table. He couldn't have picked a better time for a surprise home inspection. I guess that's the point. Catch the parents unaware so they can't hide anything beforehand. Not that we have anything to hide. I think I even see some oatmeal stuck to the ceiling. I mean how the hell did that happen?

"I'm sure." He sounds condensing. "Now, I need to check the house. Make sure there isn't any hazards in and outside of the home. I also need to go through her belongings. Make sure everything is age appropriate. First I need to check the child."

He pulls out a scanner and walks over to us. I know he needs to scan her chip but she's covered in oatmeal. It doesn't seem to stop him from trying. "Could you clean off her wrist?"

I try wiping down her wrist so he can. I rather tell him to get the hell out but one glance at Steve, with his very subtle head shake, reminds me to behave. She doesn't like the idea of him standing so close to her and stops with the whimpering. I reassure her the best I can. After a few minutes of struggling with her, he manages to get it scanned.

"Thank you. Now when was her last doctor's appointment?"

"It's been over two weeks since her visit to the doctor. Shouldn't that be on her chip?" Steve doesn't sound too impressed with his deductive skills. I mean even a small child like Brooke would have known that.