I love when the school calls.
This event means, a child is sick, wounded, or has done something wrong, I have received calls from every category. Mid-day calls from school never mean that something fantastic just happened. Why would the administration call about fantastic things?
“Hi Linda, this is Andrea from school.”
[Sweating and mind wandering begin now]
Evidently my oldest boy cut his hand with some scissors, and, according to the school personnel, the cut appears to be deep enough to require stitching.
“What was he doing with his scissors wide open in the hand cutting position?”
“We don’t know that exactly, but you need to come and pick him up. He is bleeding and shaking, but says that the cut doesn’t hurt.”
On my drive to the school, I considered all possible options as to how my son actually cut his hand. In addition, I wonder how school scissors, that are coming to the end of their high-performance ability since they have been used daily for 9 months, could leave a wound which requires stitches.
When I saw my son, I looked at the injury. The cut is terrible and deep. I question the incident. He informs me that his hand slipped while cutting. It makes sense, but deeper probing is required. I need an adult’s interpretation.
While waiting in the procedure room, my son also informed me that the boy standing next to him in the office, fainted at the sight of all the blood. The boy was sent home after banging his head on the ground from his fall. Super.
We returned to school at noon. Exactly I hour and 45 minutes from the time he was escorted to the doctor’s office. When I greet the teacher, he informs me that it was an interesting morning. When I probe the details of the cutting incident, the teacher tells me that it happened during math. No cutting was required. I question my boy to which he replies, “Yea, I um was doing this thing.” Can you say, EVASIVE?
Don’t run with scissors? How about don’t cut with scissors, during math, and then pretend that you were supposed to be cutting something.