The Bullies and the day Karma came knocking

I got a call. One of Those with a capital T. The ones that make a parent panic. Turns out Small boy aged 6 is being bullied by a gang of four kids in his class. My gut reaction was to go to them and put the fear of God and me into them courtesy of The Mummy Voice. On reflection I realised this was Bad Idea and turned to Plan B aka Small boy aged 9.

Plan B:
Small boy aged 9 (Blue belt JKA karate), plus two friends (one Judo aficionado and one celebrity son) will make a trip down at break time to the Pre-Prep where they shall intimidate and force submission from the perpetrators.

Small boy aged 9 “Am I allowed to punch them? Sensei said we can use karate on bullies.”
Far be it from me to go against the almighty Sensei.
Me “OK, what are you going to say?”
Small boy aged 9 “I’m going to tell them that if they mess with my brother they mess with my class and my college buddy.”
The college buddy is an enormous hulk of a boy in Grade 7 whose job it is to protect the Small boys in Grade 3 from bullies.

As an only child I hated that my friends at school could call down these superhero like beings called – my older sister/brother. They were imbued with superior strength and idols of perfection in every way. Small boy aged 6 is awed and humbled by the way in which his brothers classmates have thronged together to offer him support. As I walked away from the pre-mission briefing with the college buddy and the gang of Small boys aged 9, one broke away from the group and walked up to me.

“Small boy aged 6’s Mom,” he said.
“Yup,” said I.
“Don’t worry. We’ve got his back.”

It was like watching little Navy Seals prepare for battle. Those little snot-nosed, name calling wanna-bes in Grade 1 better watch out – retribution is coming and it ain’t pretty.

By the time I rocked into the classroom to confront the teacher I was rocking the passive aggression.

“Right,” I say looming in the doorway above the 3 foot high munchkins, “Show me the boys.”

They were pointed out to me and I fixed them with a steely glare and informed them that Small boy aged 6’s brother and his friends were not impressed and on their way to handle the situation. It was brilliant to watch the little gleams of panic in their shifty little eyes.

Female that I am, name-calling is a chick way to fight. I imagine that their limited vocabularies are not going to stand up to those of kids three years older and if Small boy aged 6 did decide to go Ninja on them, they’d cry like little girls too.


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