my son, the bully

i never would have believed it. my small, beautiful, six-year-old son clocked his seatmate on the bus on the way to school. being that he barely weighs in at 45 pounds, and most of it is hair, this was no small feat. but i digress.

things were going smoothly until the boy accused my son of farting. my son did not take kindly to being accused of cutting the cheese when he, in fact, was not the cutter. a scuffle and shoving ensured. my son, understandably upset, and ready to put an end to this nonsense, hauled off and slugged him one, connecting squarely with the boy’s glasses and knocking out one of the lenses. tears followed.

now here’s the part every parent loves. after receiving a phone call from the school informing me that they were not going to kick him off the bus this time (and suppressing my laughter and secretly being glad my son was the puncher and not the punchee), i called the boy’s mother and delivered the necessary apologies. then we both laughed about it. boys will be boys after all.

my son is now spending the next few days with no tv, no computer, no nintendo. exactly like it was when i was a kid… except back then it wouldn’t have been considered punishment. come to think of it…how did we survive?

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