Update
Well here's a post I've been dreading writing.
The Cook County Sheriff called my home yesterday and asked if my son could be placed under house arrest until his court date on Sept 8.
The conditions at the Cook County Jail-- this county includes all the scum from Chicago--are abysmal.
It's far exceding it's maximum capacity and no one's safety is assured.
As such, the County is trying to farm non-violent offenders out on their families, until the court sentences them. My son was arrested for not paying traffic tickets, not having registration in his car, skipping out on court dates-- which got him a suspended license, which he was picked up on this time.
So my hell spawn is here--with a chunky-looking bracelet on his ankle-- the home monitoring system-- and we have a lovely contraption attached to our phone so if he steps out the door, they'll nail him on a felony.
I don't know why I said yes--I guess I don't quite have the resolve dealing with the law, as I'm working on having with my son.
I asked my husband first, and we both agreed getting Jim out would get the car back that we have taken over making monthly payments on--as the police have him listed as the owner and won't release it to us. It will be nice to at least have custody of a car we'll be paying on for the next three years.
Jim is a secondary consideration as frankly, I don't have much faith that he'll behave for 2.5 weeks.
Right now, he's on his best behavior-- actually better than before. He wasn't in any way overweight before and he's lost quite a bit-- I assume from his bout with homelessless. He's thanking us profusely, but as the axiom goes, actions speak louder than words.
He speaks of the roaches and seeing a guy get stabbed in the neck at County, but I'm pretty jaded about anything that he says.
If there's even a tiny problem, we will call the Sheriff and revoke our agreement.
This isn't at all what was in the plan--it was a scenario that popped up that we hadn't considered. This is a pretty swanky jail, but he's not being given a bed --and certainly not the room he was in--which my husband quickly converted back into the guest room.
I guess it is what it is.
Just as I was writing now, he asked if he could pull an extra mattress out to sleep on, 'cause he hasn't slept on one in weeks--I said no-- he hasn't earned that right.
He doesn't deserve to be here, let alone deserve the comforts of home.
I feel like a total wimp. I guess I am. Sorry to disappoint.
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