Last night, my seventeen year-old son shared a moment in his day. Wes is great at telling stories and adds much detail with body animation for support. So when Wes said, “Guess what happened today?” with a mischievous excitement in his voice, I knew the story was going to be good.
“I got hit by a pear in the back of my head during lunch today,” Wes said with a scowl on his face. “When I checked with Mr. P, the vice principal and lunch monitor, about who did it, he told me. Mr. P asked if he needed to get involved. I told him, No, that it was okay.”
At this point I looked at Wes with disbelief. Okay? Right. My shoulders tensed some. What did he do? Thoughts of horror spoke in my mind, while my face just kept listening. Now the kid, S, that hit my son, is on Wes’s wrestling team. They are classmates. Friends -well that depends on the context of the situation.
“I kept that pear in my bag until the end of the day. It was nice and mushy and perfect. I waited outside until S came out. Then, I threw it. ” (My eyes became the size of baseballs at what was going to be said next, for my son is a varsity pitcher).
“Just as the pear left my hands, S turned his head and the pear hit him smack on the cheek – exploding mushy stuff all over. It was sooooo cool.” (OK, my motherly-heart was now beating faster. I feared what was next.)
Wes continued. “I then told him that he better think twice about hitting me in the head. I tossed him the towel I had and said, ‘Clean up your face’ and added, ‘Are we cool?'” (My thoughts raced again. Cool? Are you kidding me? You just beaned a kid in the face and one that has a temper.)
“S paused and then said,’Yeah we’re cool. That was a good one.’ So that was my day.”
I sat silent, motionless, letting it sink in,… and then let out my breath. Boys and their revenge.
Posted by MaryHelen 
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