Musings on a wayward son

M.'s first grade teacher leaned over to me during our last staff meeting. "We need to talk," she whispered. Hmm, I thought, nothing good can be in the offing. There are three possibilities that occur to a parent at times like this. Possibly something embarassing happened, like a big spill, or wet pants, and she wants to let me know that his feelings were hurt. Or, door #2, someone did something bad to him, like knocking him down at recess (though here that happens to kids all the time with no one paying any attention at all). Or possibly, worst case scenario, he did something bad enough to be worthy of notification from the teacher. It's not quite like getting a phone call home, but this little whisper, "we need to talk," has that odor to it. (I'm reminded of the occasional phone calls I've made to parents where before I say anything parents are asking "what did he/she do?")

So after the meeting we step aside, and his teacher doesn't pull any punches. "He started a food fight in the cafeteria." Somehow I'm not as shocked as I would have expected myself to be. Maybe because I can't quite picture a bunch of first graders winging noodles and sauce about and dumping potatoes on each others' heads, so it can't really have been that bad, but maybe also because perhaps I've seen something like this coming. M has been a bit edgy lately, and struggling to do what he really knows is the right thing. Not being bad, just having a hard time making the right choices.

So of course I'm apologetic, and his teacher is very kind and not at all blaming (though maybe she was more than a little annoyed, she seems to be thoroughly over it by now--a nice characteristic in a first grade teacher). And I promise to be firm with the boy, and to let him know that it isn't OK, and that I expect him to make some action of apology to make up for it, etc.

But lurking in the back of my brain...high five! You started a food fight?! You are SO much cooler than I ever was! Way to go, little buddy!

Don't tell him I said that.