Jem’s doing well at school, I’m pleased to report, though as his former teacher—for the past seven years, no less!—I wouldn’t mind if he’d complain a bit. I wouldn’t mind, for example, if he’d say something to the effect of “You know, Mom, Mr. So & So’s a good teacher and all, but he really doesn’t hold a candle to you.”
Or “Mrs. Such & Such is okay, I guess, but I really miss being home with you.”
Nope. No such luck.
He’s doing fine and doesn’t complain.
Oh wait, I take that back. He did complain the other day or rather, he told a story in which he thought about complaining. It seems several of his 7th grade colleagues have merited detention over the past couple of weeks. And so it goes! It’s good to whip those “sevvies” into shape.
(Now, for the record, the classes at Jem’s school are segregated by gender and so I’m speaking about the male representatives of the 7th grade class.)
(I’m sure the girls would never be so naughty.)
So Jem told me that he was sitting in art class one morning when the teacher began passing out pieces of paper. She went down the row handing them out to each boy…but when she got to Jem, she skipped him. “What’d I do?” he complained inwardly. “Why don’t I get one of those papers?”
It didn’t seem fair at all until he realized that those pieces of paper were detention slips, and that his neighbors were being a bit disruptive.
Well! My son had been given the slip, it seems.
Or should I say, he hadn’t been.
PS. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to post any future wrongdoings as well. I’m sure that Jem would love that.