"Hey Carl, your hair is sticking up in the back. You...sorta look like a werewolf."
Jeffrey immediately turned around, took a hard look at Carl, and breathlessly added, "Yeah...you DO kind of look like a werewolf!" (I think he was excited by the prospect of having one of our own in class.)
To which Carl dissolved in a puddle of tears, and I attempted (unsuccessfully) to right the situation by talking with them.
Turned out to be quite difficult to convince a second grader that he need not worry about his best friend's tactless remarks; this child takes things to heart (I had to mop his tears on Monday when someone called him the smallest person in the class. Never mind he's my TALLEST student; he cried buckets. We had a similar, fruitless conversation then, too.).
Was equally challenging to castigate the two offenders, as they saw their comments (and subsequent suggestions for taming the werewolf-like hair) as simple observation of fact. In their minds, they were simply providing a community service. And though I warned that such Good Samaritan-like behavior might someday invite a punch in the mouth, there was no relenting.
Such is life in our never-boring, delightful microcosm.
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