I go to pick up Harps from school today, only to be greeted by a grimacing teacher and the statement, "we need to talk". Oh crap! What does this mean? Is everything okay? As I was escorted over to sign an incident report, I'm thinking "Oh great. The Squirrel is a biter. Or even worse, did she beat someone up?".
Nope. Turns out my precious little angel is the victim! Insert small sigh of relief that my child is not, in fact, a biter followed by panic that something horrible has happened.
Harper has a pincher in her class who's aggression is now being taken out on the Squirrel's arms. Of course they can't say who did it so I immediately start scanning the room to find out which little monster laid a hand on my child. Which one year old has a look of guilt and won't look at me in the eyes? Come on you little boogers - I see a few unclipped fingernails in this room!
I calm down, get the girl all packed up and head to the car to give Jared a call and fill him in on "the incident". You would have thought I told him Harper had been run over by a car! I might or might not have heard a few F-bombs, a few death threats (yes, to one-year-olds) and the statement "No one hurts my daughter and gets away with it!" And I thought I was over-reacting? Little did I realize I married a meathead five years ago.
So please mark your calendars for the first annual Meabon Family Anti-Bullying, Overly Protective Parents, Child Threatening, No One Puts Baby In A Corner Walk-A-Thon. Details to be announced at a later date.
And to think, we still have middle school ahead of us - ugh!