>An upset 3rd grader stomps into my office.
Me: “Whoa. What happened?! Are you okay.?”
Hulk: “No! The teacher got me in trouble for something I didn’t even do!”
Me: “Wanna talk about it?”
Hulk: “I’m so mad! It wasn’t my fault! Ricky was bugging me and he wouldn’t leave me alone. He made me hit him! He knows that if he keeps on making me mad that I can’t control my actions!”
Not gonna touch that one.
Also, a feisty 2nd grader came in from recess. She’s panting and trying to tell me the story at the same time.
Ramona: “Iwasoutside…andaboywaschasingmeandmyfriend… andhewouldn’tleaveusalone… and he made me hurt my hand.”
I look down to see her third knuckle on her fist is skinned. When that hand bone is broken, it’s called a boxer’s fracture. Sounds like someone was practicing her right hook on an unsuspecting admirer.