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Get me the Hell out of Here!

Sometimes I worry that I will run out of stories to tell you.

Lo and behold – Goopville never lets me down.

Last week when I took Sam’s friend to a baseball game for his birthday, we took 7 friends that he chose.  This was considerably less than years past when he would invite 20 kids to a party at our house.  When some of the chosen 7 mentioned how they were excited to go to the game for Sam’s birthday at school, other who were not invited – heard and were disgruntled.

Instead of having manners and some self-respect they let Sam know that they were mad.  They demanded to know why they weren’t invited.

“Just tell them it was my fault,” I said with exasperation when Sam came home on the day of his party distraught. “I’m sorry I’m not taking 20 kids to a baseball game and P.S. you aren’t even friends with those people.”

Monday after the game, Sam came home from school and told me how he had said ‘hello’ to his friend Julian in the hallway.  Julian had responded “Don’t talk to me…I hate you.”

I told Sam that Julian’s behavior was rude and unacceptable and suggested he not bother trying to talk to him any more.

Tuesday, Sam came home and said that despite my suggestion he had taken it upon himself to say “Hi Julian,” yet again to this devil child and the child had responded, “Don’t talk to me – I still hate you.”

I was now starting to get annoyed.  “Well Sam why do you keep trying to talk to this very troubled individual?”

“He’s my friend!” poor innocent Sam replied.

“Well he’s obviously a very angry person and I don’t think you should bother with him anymore….” I said dismissively. “Also -clearly you are not good at one-liners – here let’s do some play-acting.”

I took some time with Sam pretending to be the rude child in the hallway – and made him practice what to say back the next time he said something mean to Sam.


“Great! You are ready!” I assured him.


Sam came home and made no mention of Julian so I thought the drama was over with.

“Did you see Julian today?” I asked while I prepared dinner.

“Oh yeah,” Sam said with tears in his eyes…


“I saw him at recess and I said “Hi Julian,” and he punched me in the stomach.”

I lost it.

I slammed down my knife on the cutting board and stared at Sam.

“And so I hope you kicked him in his junk!” I screeched like a lunatic.

“No! Mom!! I didn’t do anything!! I didn’t want to get into trouble!!” he pleaded.

“I have had it!! YOU DON’T LET MENTALLY UNSTABLE BIRTHDAY-PARTY OBSESSED LOSERS PUNCH YOU! What is wrong with you?? You better punch him in the face next time he pulls this shit – and you better hope your father doesn’t find out about this or he’s going to go to your school and take care of this.” I ran over to the computer.

“I am emailing his mother right now and this is going to stop right away – trust me – or I am going to go to the playground tomorrow during recess and I will give this kid a piece of my mind!”

I may or may not have mentioned a few of my other thoughts about this child....but I can't be sure because I was blind with rage.

I may or may not have mentioned a few of my other thoughts about this child….but I can’t be sure because I was blind with rage.

I dashed off an email to Julian’s mother outlining the events of the past few days and demanding that she speak to her son about his behavior.

Shortly afterwards I noticed she had called my phone and left a message.

In the message she rattled on about how she was sorry that this happened.

She said, ” I’m surprised that this happened!! Julian was so upset about not being included in Sam’s party – so I put up a bounce house in our yard during Sam’s party – to distract him!! I thought that would help – but I guess he’s still upset!!”

She put up a BOUNCE HOUSE!


“Am I on “Candid Camera?!!” I yelled to the kids….

bev on phone

I deleted the bizarre message and assured Sam that Julian wouldn’t bother him any more.


“How was your day?” I asked Sam sweetly when he arrived home.

“Oh good!” he responded positively, “I had to leave my classroom to have a meeting with Julian and the school psychologist, Dr. Smith.

“I’M GOING TO GO INSANE!” I screamed.

Just so you have the proper imagery – please imagine my sweet innocent child meeting with a monster child and the school psychologist.  Picture a woman who can only best be described as Martin Lawrence wearing a cardigan and pleated, elastic-waistband polyester slacks.  Also imagine this person to be very dumb.

Sorry - but I don't feel comfortable with this woman pulling Sam out of class to meet with a child with a behavior problem.

Sorry – but I don’t feel comfortable with this woman pulling Sam out of class to meet with a child with a behavior problem.

“No – mom! It was to talk about why Julian was mad!” Sam tried to convince me.


“Well, Dr. Smith said that Julian knew that punching me in the stomach was wrong – and he feels bad.” Sam said happily.

“Well unless he’s a total moron – I would think that he would know that.” I answered shortly, “And then what happened at this stupid asshole meeting?” I said impatiently.

“MOM!!!” Sam started to get upset, “I shouldn’t have told you!”

“What else happened?!” I demanded.

“Well Dr. Smith said that Julian feels bad but he’s not ready to say sorry yet….Dr. Smith said maybe another day we could meet when he’s ready to apologize.”

I thought my head would explode.


So my sweet innocent child with a bruised abdomen had to be removed from his learning environment to talk with Martin Lawrence in circles about how another child’s bad behavior?

On what planet do I live?

“Is that even legal??” I demanded of Mr. Gaga after firing off an email to Sam’s teacher explaining that he was banned from fruitless interventions with lunatic children and Martin Lawrence, “I mean is it normal that a child doesn’t get in trouble for punching another child over a birthday party?  We have now spent hours talking about this all week!! Hours that we will never get back!!!”

It’s the end of the school year and I just simply don’t have the patience or desire to speak to anymore Goopville parents, administrators or rotten children.

The only good thing that has come of all of this – is that I had yet another stellar story to tell you.

And I know that many of you will ask – “Did that really happen?”

Sadly – yes.




One response »

  1. Tales of a Twin Mombie

    I would flip out too. The whole thing is ludicrous. I’m a teacher and can’t even believe that this whole thing really happened. Your retelling of it though? Hysterical. lol


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