My kids were whispering when I came into the room which is never a good sign. “What’s going on?” I asked. They looked up startled. My daughter was grinning, looking thrilled to see me. My son looked down at the floor, grim. I had a pretty good idea who had instigated something.
My son quickly replied, “nothing.”
At the same time my daughter said, “Tell her what you did.”
I could feel my blood pressure rising.
“No,…no.” My son muttered as he made his way to the dinner table.
“Tell me!” I demanded.
“I can’t. I can’t,” he continued to reply.
“Fine, I’ll tell her!” My daughter exclaimed eagerly. She was bursting to rat out whatever her little brother had done.
“Today, he changed his password at school to Pee-Zero-Zero-Pee,” she delighted.
“Oh, is that all?” Sorry, but he is a child. He is a boy. I expect it. I expect worse.
“Yes, but he had to ask the teacher to do it for him.” This peaked my interest again. My son was grinning from ear to ear at this point. He was relishing in the fact that he had gotten away with his perceived cleverness…and that we were indeed still talking about his favorite subject…at the dinner table.
“What did he say?” I dreaded the answer. I also could not believe his gall.
At this point he could not contain his glee. He did a perfect imitation of his teacher. A clever man with a great sense of humor. My son shook his head, took a deep breath, and a big pause. While still shaking his head he then breathed out, “okay,” in a resigned humored way.
I cannot imagine what they must think of me at school. What they must think of my family. At this point there can only be one thing: