Even prior to the escalating drama of the week, I wasn't sleeping great. Sometimes amid hectic times I wake up really early and my mind starts processing all that I have to do. Game over - no more REM for me.
Wednesday I awoke with a jolt because I was having a nightmare. In my dream, straight and narrow Mini had joined a cult. Alarming and unsettling.
I managed to ignore my sleepy state and work my way through my morning babysitting duties. Curly needs a new Irish dancing solo dress before the big competition in July. Since I'm trying to potty train two of the tots, I camped out in the bathroom with them. Between playful songs, board books, and celebratory cheers, I browsed the dress selection on the used dress websites from my iPad.
Curly arrived home from school shortly after I woke up from my much-needed long snooze. I was sharing my favorite dress options with her when the phone rang.
It was the junior high. The secretary informed me that I needed to come up to the school to see the principal. It was about Tank. Swell.
I bolted out the door telling Curly that she was in charge of the sleeping babies. I promised to be back in a flash.
The 8th grade class went on a field trip to a 'big kid' arcade kind of place. As the kids sat waiting for the bus to get back, a fellow classmate came up and hit Tank in the back of the head for no reason. This thug wears his pants down to his knees and doesn't typically interact with Tank.
The principal showed me the video that Tank's classmates took. How handy that all theses teenagers were carrying their cell phones! My kids don't get a cell phone until high school. I don't understand why cell phones are allowed in school, or on a field trip.
'This is like something off of TV,' she exclaimed. I bit my tongue. I decided this wasn't the time or place to joke about how much this resembles something that happens in my family room every so often. Life with four boys. The video footage didn't catch the initial hit from the thug - it just includes the two boys shoving each other. Tables and chairs are being knocked over in the midst of their melee.
Principal Jerk-Face shook her head, 'We won't be invited back there.' What a pity. An over-sized Chuck E. Cheese closing its doors to our school children? They will be so deprived. We live in a suburb of Chicago - it's unfortunate there aren't more suitable year-end field trips available to these teens. Great America, the zoo, Navy Pier, a nature hike, a museum, the aquarium? Those are just a few tip-of-the-ice-burg ideas. Duh.
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Tank's ca and gown - still in the bag. |
Of course at any location, it would probably make sense that the teachers supervise the students. The video of Tank's 'incident' demonstrates that the teachers who accompanied the kids on the field trip were not in close enough proximity to witness or stop the brawl.
Jerk-Face told me that neither boy had ever been in trouble. Regardless, they would both be suspended. That meant that Tank couldn't attend his graduation ceremony the next night. I told her I could care less. I asked Tank if he cared. Nope.
It wasn't until we arrived home that Tank told me that this kid who threw the first punch had only enrolled at the school about three months ago. The plot thickened . . .
It wasn't until we arrived home that Tank told me that this kid who threw the first punch had only enrolled at the school about three months ago. The plot thickened . . .
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