I told you here about the efforts of my third grader to upgrade the butt-wipe in his elementary school bathrooms. Think back on that while I relate this most recent story from the hallowed halls and playgrounds of his school...
Seems all the third grade boys at his school play a game called “Blocking.” This is a football skill, and no-it-is-not-either-tackling, it is blocking, which is sort of like one-on-one red rover, only not, because as you all know, RED ROVER IS DANGEROUS and is NOT ALLOWED. KIDS COULD DIE FROM RED ROVER.
So, they’re blocking and running into each other like always, only one day last week this little short weenie kid loses and gets knocked down. He proceeds to go totally batshit on my 8 year old, known by all as Pete, scratching and clawing at him like a crazed feral kitten. My boy came home with gouges on his face and reported that the Napoleon Syndrome-afflicted moron who apparently cannot handle the game had been screaming “I’m gonna rip your eyes out...I'm gonna rip your nose off” as he whacked at my intelligent and good-looking child’s cute little face. Which kinda makes me wonder what the hell this kid watches on TV? Because I'm thinking he should seek out some WWF or Cage Fights, and lay off the Hello Kitty.
Anyway, here comes the good part. When he told Big Dude about the whole ordeal Pete said, with teeth and fists clenched, eyes squinting in absolute fury, looking and sounding not unlike Clint Eastwood in Fist Full of Dollars except he didn't have a backwoods smoke: “Dad. I want to t.p. his house. With the really thick stuff. Will you help?”
Considering the level of importance he bestows upon high-quality toilet paper, that’s some serious level of pissed-offness. So, I'm off to buy cigars and triple ply Charmin for the kid. I knew that school directory of student addresses would come in handy someday.