Scapegoat
A person or group that is made to bear blame for others. According to the Old Testament, on the Day of Atonement, a priest would confess all the sins of the Israelites over the head of a goat and then drive it into the wilderness, symbolically bearing their sins away.
I recall watching only one episode of Malcolm in the Middle in which Malcolm, the middle kid, became the new scapegoat and the once brooding and quiet family became once again alive when the parents started screaming at Malcolm, who took the blame when it wasn’t his fault, now that the old scapegoat moved out of the house.
Below is a short story of portraying how we suffered as scapegoats while trying to enjoy gardening under sunny, clear blue sky day:
Last night, two of the chayote vines looked dried. Maw prompted me to fertilize the dying plant. I did with a sprinkler bucket full of Miracle Grow. I went over there and found out that piled on dirt of a ‘moat’ that Paw formed with one shovel over the past few months leaked. There was a break in the small retaining wall of dried soil with the surrounding areas darker from being watered instead of the plant.
Today upon rising at 0900AM and skipping breakfast, I immediately went to the area to the ‘right’ of the CB (created by J—/Sensei) and proceeded to cut the dried vines and to extricate the vines from its former trellis. It was to be transplanted near the pear tree on the grounds that a gopher was eating the roots. This was false as Paw and I later discovered that the roots were really dry from lack of water.
After the twosome finished their two slices of wheat toast for breakfast, they came out and Paw dug the new place of dried soil, added fresh soil, mixed those two types of soil together and helped to dig out the first of two chayote plants. The first one was placed well after Maw noticed that the soil needed to be two holes instead of Paw’s one center hole.
The second one was dug up and transplanted. Maw wanted the vines of the second plant to go right through the center of the trellis with the first vines weaving on either side. She wanted the bamboo sticks tied to the bottom of the second plant but insisted for me to stop fixing the vines until the bottom portion of the plant is secured.
I didn’t listen because I knew Paw was already tying the support to the vine and saw no reason to stop what I was to doing so as to speed up the completion of the transplant. Of course, she started ranting and raving as an EMO would with the hot sun beating down upon her already hot headed temperament.
I told her to calm down, stop being mean and be nice for once but she started to get violent and threatened to throw a big rock or stone at moi. Of course, I called her bluff and continued to say I’m sorry. But the demon-possessed one continued to spew at me to stop, raised one of the long, old bamboo stick and twice whacked a grown forty-year old woman.
The striking of the stick from my left and upon my lower extremities was rather soft and didn’t hurt but thanked the teacher for putting me into place. We were tired and I didn’t care as long as the plant thrived in its new home. Her eyes were still piercing from her adrenaline rush and I went over to place a left arm of assurance that the plant will be fine.
In another televised programming, I recall watching a cartoon espisode of Futurama in which Leela became a teenager, relived her youth with her old mutant parents living underground and sneaked out of her bedroom windows upstairs after taking the blame for knocking a school over.
Leela: No! A grounded teenager must be confined to her room!
I suppose it’s good to stay upstairs for awhile until everything cools down and blog my sentiments as ‘justified punishment’ for talking back to an emotional elder earlier this morning. At least, I’m enjoying myself after a nice warm shower to remove dirt and grime from transplanting and blowing eucalyptus leaves, knowing there’s fried riced cooked by Maw as repatriation for her karmic deed of whacking moi.
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