Love. Love love love. My son got in trouble in first grade for “fighting”, two or three times. When we sat everyone down to get the most accurate explanation we could, we discovered that what he was really doing was trying to get this group of boys to stop chasing two little girls, EVERY DAY, during recess.

“Mom. Those girls tell the guys every day that they don’t want to be chased but those guys just ignore them and do it anyway. The girls are afraid to go out to recess now! Those guys should leave them alone!”’

The school reprimanded my son anyway, and I have no way of knowing if any action was taken to stop the boys from what they were doing, but I told him, “I don’t want you picking fights with kids, but what you were trying to accomplish was a very good thing, and if you ever get in trouble for trying to get a group of kids to stop scaring another group of kids because they think it’s fun and don’t care that the other kids don’t, I’ll pick you up from school and we’ll just go have some ice cream.” (i’m paraphrasing, regardless of the quotation marks. basically i told him to keep sticking up for the underdog. and that whenever anyone says “stop. don’t do that.”, then that’s the end of that. no argument. no teasing, or name calling, or ganging up. and he is fierce about that to his buddies. he’s not playing around.) Here’s to giving the world a few good men.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

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