Principal's Office

I picked the boys up this afternoon, waited until they were buckled in, and asked the question, "So, how was school today?" I know, I hated being asked that when I was a kid, and here I am, doing what every stupid, clueless adult did to me. Anyway.

Jack said, "Well, for me it was a little bit good and a little bit bad."

"What was bad about it?"

"Cameron and I got in trouble. We had to sit out recess."

"Uh-oh, what happened?"

"Cameron scratched me with his spork and so I stabbed him with mine."

Um. Don'tstartlaughingMaddie,pleasedon'tstartlaughing. The fact that "spork" is a natural part of my children's lexicon strikes me as hilarious. Also, I tried not to extrapolate twenty years into the future when a similar situation could occur, say, in prison.

"Was this at lunch?"

"Yeah. Then we hadda go to the Principal's Office."

"Did she talk to you?"

"Yeah, we hadda wait for her."

"Oh, Jack, you know that there are better ways to solve your problems than hurting people, right?"

"Uh huh. Like walking away or telling a grown up."

"Okay, good. Stabbing Cameron was unacceptable behavior. Did the principal tell you that, too?"

"Uh huh."

"Good. I hope it never happens again. It's not fun to miss out on recess, is it?"

"Nope."

"So, what was the good part of school?"

"Well, only Cameron was bleeding."

It's a good thing he was behind me, because that cracked me the hell up.