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BE YOUR KID’S ADVOCATE
A Disgusting Christmas Note From The Teacher Blew My Mind
I’m ready to dish out some humble pie
An emotional tsunami hit Friday afternoon, disrupting my carefully crafted stoic mindset. In the course of a scant few minutes, I went from elated to confused and then sickened and fuming.
What my grandson’s teacher did — in writing, pushed me over the edge. My momma lion instinct kicked in, and my claws sprang out.
Her inappropriateness was reportable. I planned to bring her down and serve her a large slab of humble pie.
It was Friday. The school closed until January 6th, leaving me no immediate recourse. Venom brewed and bubbled.
The hype for the holiday school break had built up all week. My boy’s backpack threatened to topple him from the bus steps as he bounded out with over-the-top excitement.
Freedom! Joy! Christmas!
We dumped his backpack. Our kitchen counter quickly filled with gifts, trinkets, year-end papers, and many thank-you notes from his teachers. One by one, we read the notes. All benign loveliness.
Until I opened this: