Sacked

The name of the Things' elementary school popped up on my Caller ID, bringing to mind two immediate thoughts:

1. Someone forgot something.

2. Someone is bleeding, broken or bruised.

If it was Thought No. 1, that child would soon be experiencing Thought No. 2. Last week, after my fifth trip in 20 school days to bring lunch, homework, sunscreen and/or underwear that one child forgot to pack or put on that morning, I clearly laid down the law.

"Next time you forget something, do not even THINK of calling me. I will not comply with your request no matter how sad, cute or pathetic you sound on the phone," I decreed. "I will no longer enable your absent mindedness. This is the Word. Now, where the hell are the toothpicks?"

My righteous indignation was tempered when I picked up and heard the vice principal's voice. He opened with, "First, let me tell you that Thing 2 is just fine …"

Frick.

Did he poop himself? Whip it out? Take hostages in the cafeteria and demand an attache case filled with unmarked Pokémon cards? What man, what!?

"He was putting something in his cubby and one of his classmates was lying on the floor where she shouldn't be. When Thing 2 started walking back to his desk, she reached up and grabbed him. In the private parts."

"EEEE-ooooo-OW!" I said.

He seemed surprised by my wincing aloud. "Has this happened in class before?"

"No, no. But, as a fellow member of the male condition, I'm sure you understand my immediate need to walk around for a few seconds."

"Ah," he said. "Gotcha. … Well, your son knew that this was not an appropriate place for someone to touch him [take that, McCain!] so he went and told his teacher right after it happened. The girl's in my office right now, writing a letter of apology."

I thanked him, which in retrospect seems inadequate. Is there a proper etiquette for handling phone calls from the authorities regarding the condition of your child's genitalia? Should I send him some Omaha Steaks?

But my real question is this: What is it about my 6-year-old boy that makes others mentally paint a bull's-eye on his poor Little Dude? This is Incident No. 2 in three months. I mean, I have no illusions of grandeur for the boy. It's not as if it's presenting a bigger-than-normal target -- by absolute or proportional measures -- and it just keeps jumping right in harm's way.

If it's not a big tool, is he just being a Big Tool? As much as I could buy into that, intelligence reports fail to confirm.

Perhaps he is doomed to always be on the receiving end of Life's Neverending Kick to the Crotch? That's so Old Testament.

It is settled. Tomorrow, we head to the sporting goods store. A boy's never too young to learn about Protection.