Primary Punks

My sister is nicer than me. She's nicer than most people I know. She has the most sensitive disposition and kindest heart. And she said yes when called to teach primary to a class of ten-year-olds with fourteen boys and two girls. I'd have just laughed. But she didn't. She stays up late worrying about whether or not her lessons will connect with the kids and baking brownies. And today when a couple of punks erupted in a brawl during class she chalked it up to "boys will be boys". She nicely spoke with one of the boy's mother's after church and that was that. That's my Miqui- always giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. This afternoon phone calls were made by some parent's to her team teacher. The bullying kind of parents. The kind of parents who do not take responsibility for their kids or make their kids take responsibility for their actions. And following the phone calls, who was in tears? My Miqui. Oh, hell no! She is nicer than me, so that's why I'm glad I'm here. Don't push me people and do not punk my Miqui. This week invitations will be sent to each of these boys parents. They will be cordially invited to attend primary with their child so as to not disrupt class in the future or else. That's nice right? Nicer than I'd like to be.