But the worst thing is that my visiting teacher, hearing of my ailment, brought me a decadent chocolate cake filled with chocolate mousse and dripping with melted chocolate. Why? Why?? I could only look on sadly while the rest of the family wolfed it down.
So anyway... A day or so ago, M was so late home from school that I jumped in my (new) car and drove up the road looking for him. I found him, trudging home with a dejected look on his face. I started laying into him about how he is not supposed to muck around after school and how worried I was etc etc when he burst into tears and tearily (is that a word?) told me about the three enormous boys who waylaid him. They threw pine cones at him, one of which got caught in his bike wheel and flipped him off his bike, hence the walking home instead of riding. And that was not all that these ferocious kids did. They tackled the poor child and beat the crap out of him. Yes, I am very lucky that the sorry child in front of me was still intact. He showed me his wounds... some scrapes and burgeoning bruises and all the anger went out of me and naturally, transferred to these little demons who had the nerve to hurt my child!
I got on the phone and called the principal and vented to her forthwith! I told her about the monsters who attacked my poor defenseless boy! I told her he has never complained about something like this before. I told her the monster's names. I told her "something needed to be done!" She was horrified and promised to interview them all and get to the bottom of it and let me know how many lashes the bullies would receive.
Imagine my disbelief when the report came back that in fact, M was NOT victimized. He was actually playing with the boys and they were all throwing pine cones at each other. Then they played football, then M came home!
Never mind the fact that M felt he could tell the Principal the truth but lie to his mother. Or, that he made me look like an overreacting, over protective, crazy mum! But what bothers me most is that somebody had to call me and tell me I was WRONG! I even had to APOLOGIZE! Arghhh!
This is what having children means. HUMILIATION. If it hasn't happened to you yet, it will. Wait 'til you find out your kid told a random guy at church what size bra you wear. It's all downhill from there...
P.S. Here is my new car... it's not the actual car (cos I haven't got a decent pic) but is exactly the same as mine right down to the cool wheels. (And no, it does not say $10,888 on the windscreen. It says $19,888... not that this is my car. I just felt like mentioning it.)