Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Bullied Chivalry

He's Adrian. He generally doesn't do wrong. He's nice to humans, animals, insects, and his favorite Jesus. He thinks prayers and sending handmade cards will fix any social or economical problem. He considers being nice to mean people as a valid attempt to rock the universe in his favor and eliminate his cavities. He pretends to get grossed out when Daddy with one T kisses me but I see the corners of his mouth secretly beaming; he gets exponential happiness from viewing any form of love. He can draw better than your kid and spell better than your whole family.

He is genuinely worried about never finding a wife and has been since he was about five. That's a long three years of disappointment in the opposite sex. It's hard to tell him that females will get better when the only improvement he's had in prospective wives since Kindergarten is that they stopped shitting their pants and started growing awkward and ugly adult teeth. It's difficult to imagine your perfect vision of a spouse in a first grader with dirty shoelaces and a no-belt-tuck. No wonder a few years ago he asked if he could just marry his sister. 

He was at his Nana's this past weekend and I missed him, like always. When he came back on Sunday, I hugged him too tight and smelled his hair like I was a creepy orangutan mom searching for bugs. He always smells of an illogical and condescending old man when he comes back. As much as I hate his Grandpa's cologne, it still smells like Adrian coming home.

I was a few miles away when I got the text message:

by the way, he was crying hysterically when we picked him up on friday. something about boys being mean to him on the bus

I don't have a "boys will be boys" attitude. I will rip out a little kid's liver with my nubbins of fingernails if they make Adrian cry. 

Me: Hey, buddy. Did something happen on the bus on Friday? 

Adrian: well...yeah....(looks ashamed and sad) 

Me: Well...tell me who made you sad, honey,  and where do they live. 

Adrian: It was Todd. He...just...wasn't saying very me. 


Adrian: well. yeah. 

Me: How could this have happened? Doesn't he realize how stupid and awful he is, and that you're awesome and articulate?

Adrian: NO! He doesn't realize that at all. He said I'm ugly and I'll never have a girlfriend and I don't draw good. 



I pulled my car into the McDonalds parking lot a few blocks from our house, and slammed it into park. 

"He. Said. WHAT."

Adrian has that look on his that he wish he could take back what he just said. Like the way my face probably looks when at the exact moment I open the back door and I realize I've already set the alarm. He couldn't take those words back. I couldn't undo the opening of the door. Now the alarm was going to blare and I was about to yank out an afro. 

I tried to get more information about the context of this little verbal scuffle with the feral  kid, but he wasn't forthcoming with more details. He knew he had added enough fuel to the fire to make sure I took care of any of his problems, like the amazing helicopter mom I am. 

He assures me that the daycare director talked to Todd and told his parents and all was well and happy, and could we please just get happy meals and listen to Michael Buble sing about Christmas? 

Monday afternoon I trotted into his daycare to pick him up. I had not thought much about the heartless bullying incident until I turned the corner and saw Buckwheat Bully rolling a ball back and forth with another small child. Not sure why, but I immediately assumed the other child was in on the ploy to destroy my perfect offspring. 

Adrian had spotted me and had run back to another room to get his backpack. I walked right up to the assholes and stood between them. I stopped their poorly-rolled ball with my high heel. 

"Hello Todd"

He looked surprised I knew his name. 

"Uh. Hey." He tried to awkwardly grab the ball under my heel. I pushed down harder on the rubber and intensified my stare. I turned slowly to face the other mongrel. 

"How are you BOYS today? Being Nice? Making good decisions? hmmm?"

My voice was dripping with hatred of their souls. By now the Teacher has taken notice that I'm bullying some elementary schoolers and comes to stop me. Adrian also caught the last little exchange between myself and the little fuckhead. 

"Yeah. I'm being nice"

"Well, YOU BETTER BE GLAD." I then did the white girl version of snapping a Z as the Teacher was tugging me into a room.

Teacher: What is going on????

Me: What's going on??? What's going on??? Those boys SAID things to Adrian on the bus. Things that weren't NICE. He was bawling his eyes out!

Hearing the words come out of my mouth, I now know I am overreacting to a minor infraction and that Miss Holly is going to think I'm batshit crazy. 

Miss Holly turns to Adrian. "What did they say? I'm sorry I wasn't here on Friday, did the other teachers talk to them?"

Adrian: Yes. But the other kid is nice, Mom. He and I read books together. I think he's probably really confused why you just took his ball with your shoe and stared at his heart. 

I turn to Miss Holly and start to try to explain-

Mary: I'm thinking I just-


I saw a fury grow in her that I thought only a Mother could nurture and give birth to. The way she stormed off with her clipboard and the red in her cheeks made me know that I didn't have to worry about this godless child ruffling my little chicken's feathers again anytime soon. 

The director of the daycare catches me on the way out. She asks if Adrian had told me what happened, and I just told her that I knew Todd was being mean and he was upset. She kind of coyly asked if I had learned what had started the altercation. I said that if I had, I don't remember because my eyes started bleeding hatred from my heart and I was shell-shocked. 

Daycare director: was a girl that Todd was being to. And...Adrian kind of likes this girl, I think. Maybe he has a crush, I don't know. But Todd said something about her being ugly and Adrian said... 'You're wrong. She's very sexy'....



Me: ........

 Director: So then Todd and all his friends were making fun of Adrian for using the word sexy.

Adrian is eight. As awful and embarrassing as it is that he used that word, I can guarantee you that little 2nd grade girl has never felt more like a bombshell sexpot in her entire 7 years of living. I like to imagine her having a whole new spark in her glitter-shoelaced step. I know he is definitely thinking that once all her adult teeth come in and she gets braces and her first eyebrow waxing, she will be first in line to be his wife. 

Watch out, single ladies....