Nothing screams DRAMA! more than a bunch of kids, am I right? I have 3 girls who drive their brother nuts with their bickering and what I refer to as emotional torture, but I was not prepared for the drama that my son and his friends have going on within the tough walls of their second grade classroom.
My commute to school usually involves a giant tumbler of coffee, dodging inappropriate songs/prank calls on the radio (let’s delay trying to explain the concept of “getting over someone happens when you get under someone else,”) and threatening to hire a bus driver every 3 minutes if they don’t stop fighting at 7 am. I mean, who wants to have an argument so early? I barely have the will to get dressed at such ungodly hour. The kids usually head to the cafeteria for breakfast, and I wait in the car for the bell so I can meet them at their class and kiss them goodbye.
Yesterday was no different. Or so I thought. It turns out the boys in my son’s class, specifically his bestie who shall remain nameless, had a brawl in the cafeteria which may or may not have included strangulation with a side of eggs. I was casually told that his bestie tripped a classmate and then all hell broke loose, and that my child was at the center of it all. Not really, but apparently the BFF tripped the classmate to defend my son’s honor. I immediately turned into Lester Holt and my criminal investigation of the day’s events started. Were there cameras in the cafeteria? Who started the physical altercation? Where are the witnesses? Have the boys been interviewed separately? And of course, where the heck was the adult in charge? Turns out these kids have no adult supervision, as I learned another kid, this time a girl, who tried to separate the fight, got punched in the arm.
After speaking to several key people, I concluded that boys will be boys and eventually someone will get throat punched. The day went on, and I was relieved my son really didn’t have anything to do with the problem and I could go my merry way. So you can imagine my dismay, when at school pick-up, I get a message from the school office regarding my daughter. Of course, knowing the little “princesses” that we are dealing with, I immediately knew we were talking about my youngest, Emma, who takes nothing from nobody and beats to her own drums. Only this time she tried to beat someone, and ironically enough, in the throat.
Lesson of the day? Drama doesn’t discriminate. Don’t think your precious little angel won’t smack his little friend, because just when you do, the sweet pre-school teacher will break the news that your kid did indeed try to cut her friend with those blunt-ended scissors. Self-defense classes as an elective, anyone?
Till next fight,
Patty