Kacoon's son Midget, now in his third week of Pre-K, was apparently kicked and punched by a fellow toddler during his class time in their "circle" today. I told Kacoon that she should withdraw him.
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
"Well, if Midget's getting beat up, then we should just take him out of school, right?" I asked.
"Oh yeah, that's reasonable," Kacoon said.
"Well then, maybe we should teach him how to use a gun," I said, jokingly.
Midget was sick last week. This week, he's getting beat up. His first week of school, Midget told Kacoon that he'd fallen in love with a girl whose name he couldn't remember and that she let him hug her. (I told Kacoon that Midget's little trampy girlfriend was probably good-for-nothing white trash, trying to trap Midget into some sort of shotgun wedding. Kacoon countered by reminding me that the little slut's four years old.)
He's been in school three weeks, and already so much stuff has happened. I have to make sure that, no matter what trouble happens, I always have Midget's back.
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