The Bully

I hear a commotion.

It was at the one area in the entire room where we couldn't see what the kids at the breakfast club were doing. There was yelling and I ran down the hall to see what was going on. As I round the corner I see my boy fall to the ground, pushed by another kid. One of the crowd sees me and yells, telling the pusher to go. Now.

I follow him outside.

He tells me he hates that kid because he follows him around.

keep him away from me or I'll kick his ass

For a moment I wonder why there's no lynch mob waiting to take this bully to task for his crimes.

I tell him he should go to an adult, that's what we're here for.

what's the point? You're on his side

Precisely that moment, my heart breaks.
I see the bully not as a bully
but as a kid who's been terrorized himself.

He wouldn't come to us because he doesn't trust
the grown ups around him to make the right decisions.
He scared.
He feels alone.

I tell him I'm sorry my son bugs him
and I tell him he can come to me anytime.
I'm not always on my kid's side,
I'm looking for the right side.

I don't even realize that I'm crying until I walk down the stairs
and my boy ask me why my eyes are red.

I ask him if he's hurt and he tells me
we were just playing mom
and I realize he doesn't understand what just happened.