“Sure buddy,” I think to myself, he’s only 10, how bad can this be?
In his room he begins telling me about his rough day, “This kid Irving wanted to be rolled up in the carpet in the classroom and he was asking Sheldon and I to do it. I knew it was a bad idea, but he started rolling himself up and Sheldon helped. I started to unroll him when the teacher saw. He took me out of the class and began talking to me. Other people in the class told him I wasn’t doing anything wrong. But he told me this was a warning and if I did anything else he would call my parents or send them an email.”
What is going on in this class that kids are making taco carpets with themselves. Don’t they have math problems they should be doing? GoofBoy is pretty upset, let’s make sure that he knows there is nothing to worry about.
“Buddy, I believe you and I am proud of you for coming to me on your own. Think about it, your teacher said he wasn’t going to call me yet – so you didn’t have to say anything.”
Whoops, probably shouldn’t have told him that.
“I mean, you haven’t had any behavior problems this year so if your teacher did call I would tell him I accept your version of the events and it was no big deal. But he isn’t going to call and even if you were in the wrong, it was one little mistake when you’ve been really good all year.”
“But buddy, one piece of advice. Stay away from Irving and Sheldon. I know you were trying to help, but unless they are really going to get hurt – if you know something dumb is going down, just walk away.”
“OK Dad,” GoofBoy smiles, “Maybe they’ll make a note of this in the archives – it will be on my permanent record.”
I love that, he respects propriety but is not in awe of authority.
“Hey, Dad, I’ll bet this conversation wasn’t really private. I bet my sister was listening at the door!”
“If she is,” as it happens she wasn’t, “you know your sister. It wasn’t because she was spying – it was because she was worried about you. Can you imagine what she would have done?”
“Yeah, if she saw the teacher yell at me unfairly, she’d scream, ‘I’m getting my lawyer!’ and she would call pop. She and pop would show up at school in black suits with big briefcases,” as he says this he struts like a confident lawyer heading to court and begins humming the theme to Law & Order.
“Dum, dum!” we sing together, laughing.
“My sister is tough,” GoofBoy continues, “You know at camp she belted a kid?”
“What! Sweetheart, get up here!” I yell. GoofGirl joins us.
“Remember when you hit that kid at camp?” GoofBoy asks.
“Sure. It was like this,” GoofGirl takes charge now, directing her brother, “First you stand here and be you, then stand over there and be the kid I slugged.”
GoofBoy as himself: My sister is pretty strong.
GoofBoy shifts over three feet to take the role of punching bag: She’s just a little kid. She can’t be strong.
GoofGirl strides up and phantom punches her brother in the stomach. GoofBoy doubles over and says: Hoookay!