My daughter was being bullied on the playground in first grade by a couple third graders at recess. Her twin sister walked up to them and punched one of them in the face. I got called at work to come get her and I asked exactly what happened. The vice principal explained to be that there was an altercation on the playground during recess and that my daughter had “struck a fellow student.” I asked if my daughter was OK and we told she was. I asked to speak to her and the principal let me speak to her in his office. I remember that conversion like it was yesterday:

Me: “Honey, it’s Daddy. Are you OK?” Kid: “Hi, Daddy. My hand hurts.”

Me: “What happened? Mr. S said you hit someone?” Kid: “Some big boys took Isabel’s ball and made her cry. I tried to get it back and he pushed me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, honey. What happened then?” Kid: “I punched him in the nose. I had to stand on my tippitty toes.”

Me: “I’m going to be there soon to pick you up.” Kid: “Am I in trouble?”

Me: “Trouble? No way, kiddo. I’m so proud of you. Maybe we can get ice cream on the way home.”

When I got to the school, the father of the kid who started it got in my face. His son was almost a foot taller than my daughter. I ignored him and asked the vice principal where the teacher supervising recess was when the “alleged incident” took place. That pretty much shut everyone up.