I was at my work office, just working at my computer, when a call came to my cell phone. I looked at the screen and saw the call was from an unknown number. I answered and was greeted by a woman calling me “Mister” Grit.

The caller started with, “I’m sorry to contact you like this, as I know you’re probably at work and busy….” It seemed to take a long while for the woman to eventually say who she was and what the call was about, but she eventually got there: She was the assistant principal at our boys’ elementary school, and the call was about our older boy, Calfgrit11.

Now, our youngest boy, Calfgrit7, has been at home sick most of the week. Wifegrit and I have been worried that someone else in our house was going to come down with what the little one had, (it’s been a nasty bug), so my immediate thought was that Calfgrit11 was sick at school.

My second thought was about why the school was calling me instead of Wifegrit. Our home number and her cell phone number should be at the top of the school’s contact list, as she is a stay-at-home mom, and we live literally across the street from the school. I don’t mind that the school calls me when needed, but I was thinking about how I was up to 45 minutes away, and if our son needed to be picked up, I couldn’t be there immediately. The principal was taking so long to come to the point of her call that all these thoughts had time to run through my head.

Eventually, she got around to explaining that Calfgrit11 had been in an “altercation in the lunch room.” What!? I didn’t say it, but the exclamation was loud in my head. I wasn’t angry or upset, as the principal’s tone suggested she expected, but I was stunned. Calfgrit11 in a fight at school? He’s as mild mannered a kid as you’ll ever see.

The principal reported the incident very slowly, precisely, and clearly. I could tell she felt like she was walking on eggshells, and I can understand why — not all parents will listen well before jumping to conclusions, defenses, and accusations. The situation was:

In the lunch room, another boy was poking CG11, and wouldn’t stop. The other boy kept poking and pushing until CG11 fell to the floor. When CG11 got up from the floor, he hit the other boy, and then left his spot in line to move to the back of the line. A teacher saw what happened and took the boys aside to send to the principal’s office. Neither boy was hurt.

The principal made sure to clearly state that the other boy started it, and the other boy wouldn’t stop despite CG11’s telling him to stop. She directly stated that the other boy was at fault for instigating and escalating the altercation. But she said CG11’s fault was in not getting a teacher involved instead of fighting back. Because the principal has to enforce some consequence for the fighting, she was going to give CG11 a one lunch detention the next day. She didn’t directly say, but I inferred from her report that she was happy that CG11 walked away from the boy to end the altercation instead of escalating the situation into a real brawl. She added that CG11 would be bringing home a written report on the incident.

OK. I asked if I needed to do anything, like come to the school to pick him up. No, there was no need for me to do anything. CG11 would go back to his classroom and other than the lunch time in her office, (as detention), the next day, the situation with him was resolved.

I got up with Wifegrit right after I hung up with the principal. Turns out she had been with sick Calfgrit7 and so wasn’t able to get to either the house phone or her cell phone when the principal called. And when she tried calling her back, she couldn’t get through because the principal was on the phone with me. After I relayed the story to Wifegrit, I decided to leave the office and go home. I wanted to be home when Calfgrit11 got out of school, and Wifegrit needed my “calming influence.” She was already stressed out for having a sick child home for three days, and now her other son had been in a fight. I had to “order” her to not go to the school and just wait for me.

I went home and we talked about it some more. Wifegrit calmed down, and we both came to the conclusion that it seemed Calfgrit11 did well in the situation. We decided we were not angry; we were thinking about being impressed with what seemed to be maturity on our 11 year old’s part. But we wanted to hear the story directly from him.

At the school-let-out time, I met Calfgrit11 outside the school, and we walked home. As he walked out of the building, I could see on his face that he was distressed. As soon as he got to me, I told him, “You’re not in trouble with me and mom.” I couldn’t tell if that was a relief for him or not. But as we walked home, he talked about his day around the incident, and he seemed to relax and turn happy.

At home, the three of us sat down and discussed what happened. Turned out, the boy who had been poking and pushing him was a friend. Well, had been a friend at one time, during the first few months of the school year. The other boy started to get on CG11’s nerves, being too annoying, so CG11 stopped hanging with him. (This we’ve known about.) The lunch room incident was just an extreme example of the annoyances the other boy caused CG11. The boy poked and pushed just being silly, but it went so far that CG11 fell down. In trying to get back up, CG11 flailed with his elbows to get the other boy to back off, and “maybe” or “probably” hit the boy in the legs. Once CG11 was up, the boy hit him in retaliation for the elbowing. CG11 then walked away to the back of the lunch line.

Wifegrit and I were both impressed with how our boy handled not only the incident at the time, but how he took the investigation by the assistant principal. Neither boy was really trying nor wanted to fight or hurt each other. The other boy was just being overly energetic in his attempts at getting CG11’s attention. CG11 managed to keep his head in the situation, and managed to keep his composure when taken to the principal’s office to explain the situation.

I was satisfied with how the school handled the situation, too. The principal was very slow and clear when reporting it to me, and though she decided to give a punishment to my son for an incident he didn’t start, and that he ended well, the punishment was very light. I would say my son doesn’t deserve a detention even for one lunch period, but I can understand why she made that decision. And the decision is not so wrong that I think a parent should make the principal’s job harder by second guessing and arguing the issue.

That evening, I sat down with Calfgrit11 and made sure he understood Wifegrit’s and my position on the incident. I told him that we think he handled it pretty well. Yes, as the principal said, he probably should have told a teacher or separated himself from the other boy before the poking and pushing got as far as it did, (and that’s why he has the lunch detention). But sometimes things escalate faster than you expect. Sometimes people won’t stop doing something just because you tell them to stop. Sometimes things get out of hand. But if you keep your head, remove yourself from the problem when you can, or defend yourself if you have to, a bad situation can end up not bad for you. I told him we were proud of how he handled it.

He said, “Thanks.”

Bullgrit

The boys and I made Wifegrit a cake for her birthday, (Feb 10). Moist, yellow, heart-shaped cake with chocolate icing, sprinkled with a lot of every kind of sprinkle we have the cabinet, and edged in white trim icing. I had to stop the boys once the sprinkles were starting to just pile up on themselves, not even touching and sticking to the icing. They got as much sprinkles on the table, and floor, as they did on the cake itself.

After dinner, everyone had a slice of the cake, and there was much “Mmmmm.” Before the last bite was finished, Calfgrit11 asked if he could have another piece. “No,” was the answer, of course.

3…2…1 Then Calfgrit7 asked if he could have another piece of cake. “No,” again. They always do that. One asks for something, gets told, “No,” and then the other one immediately asks for the same thing. We have never told one no and the next yes, so I have no understanding why they think it will work.

After the kitchen was cleaned up, the boys took their showers, put on their pajamas, brushed their teeth, and were ready for bed. Calfgrit7 asked if he could have one more piece of cake before getting into bed. “No.”

3…2…1 Then Calfgrit11 asked if he could have another piece of cake before getting into bed. “No.”

The next morning, at the breakfast table, Calfgrit11 asked if he could have a piece of cake before school. “No.”

3…2…1 Then Calfgrit7 asked if he could have a piece of cake before school. “No.”

When they got home from school, one asked for cake as a snack, was told, “No, you can have some for dessert after dinner tonight,” and then the other asked for cake as a snack, and was told, “No, you can have some for dessert after dinner tonight.”

That evening, while Wifegrit was getting dinner ready, one asked if he could have a piece of cake while waiting, (“Cause I’m really hungry.”) He was told, “No, after dinner.” Then the other asked if he could have a piece of cake while waiting.

After dinner, as promised, they both got a piece of cake. Before either was finished with it, one asked if he could have a second piece. No. Then the other boy asked if he could have a second piece.

Oh Em Geeeeeee! Really? Isn’t this the definition of insanity: to do the same thing over and over but expect different results. Are my kids insane? It drives me insane.

They both always do this, with nearly everything. One asks to watch TV, is told “No,” then the other asks to watch TV.

And I’m not even talking about when they ask the other parent after getting “No” from the first. That at least makes sense in that a different answer is possible from a different person. Well, except that sometimes they ask one and then the other when both parents are actually in each other’s presence. They have both done the turn around in place of asking one and then the other as if I will knowingly contradict their mother, or vice versa. That’s not so much insanity as just not understanding the concept of parental teamwork and mutual support.

At what age do kids outgrow this asking right after each other, some how thinking they might get a different answer?

Bullgrit

I mentioned on my Facebook page that Calfgrit11 and I went up flying in a small plane with a couple of friends a few weeks ago. I took several photos of the plane’s shadow as we were coming in for a landing, and made an animated .gif out of them:

Bullgrit

I was working late one night last week at my “real job” office. I was the only one on my floor of offices, (I had walked around the floor a little while before, and no one was anywhere to be seen), and all was very, very quiet. It was the kind of quiet you only find in an empty office building; long halls of dark offices and closed doors. An almost eery quiet.

Well, I was calling it a night and locked my computer. When I turned in my chair to reach down and collect my backpack, (read: “briefcase”), someone right over my shoulder said, “Psst,” in my ear. It startled the hell out of me, and I shouted.

I whirled around in my chair to see no one in my office. My door was even still closed to a crack. Sheesh, I thought, as my heartbeat slowed back down. That was weird.

I swear, it really sounded like a person’s voice right next to me. Obviously it must have been my chair squeaking, or my shoe on the carpet, or some other mundane sound. How loud did I shout? I thought. Good thing I’m the only one here right now.

So I picked up my backpack, stood up and opened my office door. I stepped out, locked and closed the door, and then saw someone round the corner about 30 feet down the hall. It was a coworker, and he had a concerned look on his face.

He said, “Did you just hear someone shout?”

“Yeah,” I said. “It was me.”

The absurdity and embarrassment of it all made me start laughing. Through my chuckling, I explained how I had just heard a disembodied voice whisper in my ear, and it startled me to shout. He started laughing, too. By the end of my explanation, we were both nearly doubled over with laughter.

“But you’re okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I assured. I could feel the heat of my red face from the laughter and embarrassment.

We said goodnight to each other, and he went on back to his office, and I went on to the elevators.

Once I was all calm and collected, I thought about the ghostly incident some more. I swear that really sounded like the voice of someone standing right next to me. It didn’t sound like a chair squeak or a shoe scrape, or any other non-voice sound. I have a pretty strong imagination, but I long ago came to accept that ghosts and such don’t really exist. I don’t know if my lack of belief in the paranormal is really an intellectual calculation or if it is just hopeful thinking because I don’t like the idea of invisible beings watching me when I’m alone. I mean, if there is a ghost in my office, it wouldn’t just see me when I’m picking up my backpack, but it would be there to see me blow my nose and scratch my butt, too.

Ghost stories never mention apparitions appearing to people sitting on the toilet. Disembodied voices never recite back your Facebook password. I guess some scares are just too much for many people to contemplate.

Bullgrit