~ When Creativity (or Stupidity?) Attacks ~

After a particularly terrible, horrible, no-good, very-bad Thursday a few weeks ago, the kids were having a good Friday. They'd remembered they are fifth graders and decided to behave, follow directions, and engage in all around good behavior. What better way to reward good behavior on a Friday than to have a little extra recess?

The sun was shining and it wasn't too cold out yet, so we headed out. Football, basketball, and kickball games sprang up immediately, and I sat back and enjoyed the fact that it was Friday and it was sunny.

Nearly 15 minutes had passed when one of my moms showed up. She was dropping off lunch to her daughter and needed to let her know it was there, and she stopped to say hi to me, too. In the less than ninety seconds that my back was turned, I heard it start. At least half a dozen kids yelling at me and the only thing I could hear clearly was "bleeding!" After shushing the half dozen screamers, I saw him: D was making his way from the kickball game toward me crying and holding the back of his head, which was streaming blood down his neck and all over his shirt. When I asked what happened, he told me a rock hit the back of his head.

The mom volunteered to take him down to the office and I began a conversation with the other three kickball players.

"Did he fall and hit his head?"

"No, the rock hit his head."

"How did that happen?" I asked. This question produced three different answers:

1. "Well, um, we might have been just tossing some rocks in the air."

2. "Someone threw one, but I'm not sure who threw the one that actually hit D's head."

3. "Mrs. N, we got bored with kickball, so we were playing Dodge-Rocks."

I decided answer number three was probably closest to the truth, so I sent each of the kickball players to a different room to stew for a little while so I could calm down enough to talk with them.

While each one had a slightly different version, all the stories went something like this: We were bored. Then someone, and I don't know who, said, "Let's play Dodge-Rocks!" We decided to do that, and so we were throwing rocks and then one hit D's head and he started bleeding.

Since they were all throwing rocks, they all got detentions. Except D, since he was home with a bleeding head. In the office later that afternoon, the secretary told me that karma punished D. I asked what she meant and got the rest of the story. In the office, having his head examined and his mother called, D fessed up. Dodge-Rocks was his idea. His stupid idea. I'm not a believer in karma, but I'd say his own stupidity punished him that day. One less thing for me to do...