Recently we discovered that Annie's seafoam colored crocs--quite possibly the ugliest shoes on the face of the planet--had been attacked by a pair of rubber handled safety scissors during nap time in Pre Kindergarten. The perpetrator who wielded the scissors had cut across from each gem hole to each gem hole--a Connect-the-Dots of vandalism. Who did it? "Fabian." The same boy who had terrorized Annie at recess by chasing her across the blacktop threatening to kiss her on the lips.
Blog flashback: I once had a favorite dress when I was Annie's age. It was a soft beige corduroy with a Siamese Cat Pattern. One day I wore it to school and Kenny Farnsworth took a yellow magic marker and drew streams of pee coming from each of the cats. It was a bad day, *shudder, * and I often wonder if Kenny ended up in juvie, or as a contestant on Project Runway. He seemed the type that would get a tattoo across his neck. But I digress.
As luck would have it, I ran into Fabian's Mom at a school event shortly after the croc incident. She introduced herself, I shook her hand.
ME: "I'm Annie's Mom. You know Annie-the shoeless urchin." (OK- I did not actually say the words "shoeless urchin." I said something to the effect of: "I'm Annie's Mom blappitty blappity blah--Your Kid cut My Kids shoes.")
FABIAN'S MOM: I Know. I Got The Letter From The Teacher.
(LONG UNCOMFORTABLE PAUSE. We stand looking at each other. It takes my brain about 2 full minutes to realize that that is ALL she is going to say about it.)
ME: Well, okay then.
FABIAN'S MOM: I asked him about it and he said he did it because your daughter told him to. He said that she forced him to do it.
(ANOTHER LONG UNCOMFORTABLE PAUSE.)
ME: Well-ok--I'm SORRY about that.
Meanwhile my brain is going 60 mph: could this be true? Is it possible that my daughter enlisted the help of this hapless boy in order to obtain her desired goal: NEW SHOES? No, no--that would be manipulative and underhanded--something my son would most definitely do, but not Annie. And while my brain is chewing this over, Fabian's mother walks away. And then I realize that she is Brilliant--because she managed to make ME apologize. When what I really should have said was: "That's a Crock."
So then I went home and told Annie that if Fabian ever bothered her again, she should tell her father to handle it.