This morning I overheard one half of a troubling conversation between a colleague and his nine year old daughter.
Father: WAIT. WHO did WHAT?
Father: Is he from our neighborhood?
Father: What grade is he in?
Father: Did he MEAN to do it?
Father: Are you SURE?
Father: Were you TEASING him?
Father: Are you SURE?
Father: Well, then you go outside and yell, "My daddy's gonna kick your ass and your dad's ass, too, when he gets home tonight." Go ahead, yell it right now.
Father: Okay now. You're fine. Go to school.
Far be it from me to wish drama on anyone but I would give anything for this guy to show up tomorrow with a black eye and a broken arm. Not because he provided such an idiotic lesson to his daughter. And not because I want to see him damaged for taking his daughter's side. But because he deserves it for being so damn naive.
I wasn't there but I know two things. First, you cannot possibly understand all sides of any story from a two-minute conversation with a third-grader. And second, never ever physically threaten people until you've at least seen how big they are. Sure, this kid might be just a runty little twerp and his dad a peace-loving pencil-neck geek. Or he could be some cruelty-loving, mammoth psycho-kid with an ex-wrestler psycho-pop who happens to like guns. And nunchucks ... which until just this moment I believed were called nukchuks.
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