“Because he looked at me funny.”

That’s the reason I get when I show up at my son’s school in the middle of the day as
requested by the guidance counselor and ask my son why he punched his best friend in the face
during Social Studies.

I consider his answer before continuing. “Haha funny or strange funny,” I ask.

“Strange funny,” he replies in a voice without any anger. “Funny like ‘you’re a freak and
I am going to embarrass you in front of the entire class’. Funny like...” His voice trails off and
we sit at the table in silence. My son is twelve with the normal maturity quirks, but this is way out
of character. They say boys are easier to raise, but at this moment, I wonder whether it’s actually
true.

“There’s a three-day required suspension for fighting,” the counselor notes. “Since the punch
was unprovoked...” he stares at my son while speaking, “the other boy will not be subject to the
suspension but will be sent home for the day.” I nod. “And you may want to get your son some
counseling for his anger issue.”

That last comment irks me. Yes, my son is emotional, always has been. But he doesn’t
have anger issues. I’m not one of those parents who believe that his child can do no wrong, but I know my son. His actions are confusing.

Back in the car, there is no talking. I start to play with the radio a bit, changing stations,
then turn it off completely. “So why did you REALLY punch him in the face?” I ask, still staring
straight ahead at the road.

There’s a pause. In my peripheral vision, I see him make a quarter turn in his seat to me.
“Jimmy forgot about the test we had today. It was a big one, worth half our grade. If he failed,
they would hold him back.” He turns back in the seat to face front.

“So you punched him in the face? Knowing he would get a bloody nose in front of the
whole class and you would get a three-day suspension? Was he cheating off your work?” I ask.

“No. He would never do that. Neither would I. I figured that if I did something, he would
be excused from the test for today and get another day to study. He’s my best friend. I don’t want
to go to eighth grade without him.”

I sat silent for a minute. I think about all the life lessons this brings forward. Honesty and
hard work and trust and following the rules. And what friendship really means.

I decide that today’s lesson had already been learned.

By me.

I press the button on the car dashboard to call work and tell them I won’t be back in today.

“Let’s go get some ice cream. And catch a movie.”