Big Trouble, Little E

When my phone rang at 1:25 p.m. this afternoon announcing a call from my children's elementary school, my heart sank. I wondered if one of the girls became sick at school (they're only on the second day back from break!) or worse that one of them was hurt. I crossed my fingers for the first versus the latter and answered the call. The voice on the other end was friendly and upbeat, our favorite second grade teacher. She assured me right away that it wasn't "a big deal" and was actually laughing as she began her story. Yesterday afternoon, she returned from lunch to find a small group of children in her classroom. She asked them what they were doing there and questioned why they weren't out at recess with the rest of the school. They collectively replied that they'd "just missed" recess, so they waited in the room since the others were due in any minute. The teacher explained to the children that if that ever happened again, they'd need to wait in the hallway where they could be seen because they were unsupervised in the classroom. Today, following lunch, the teacher noted that four children hadn't returned yet from recess and requested aid to locate them. Another staff person overheard loud noises coming from the girls' bathroom and investigated. There, she found the missing group, including our beloved 7 year old, B. The girls had packed themselves into a single stall and were sitting on a heat register (perhaps to keep their feet from being seen). And they were taking turns listening to their voices echo. They were escorted back to their classroom, half-giggling, half-scared witless. B's teachers said she pretended to be very upset and explained to the girls that hiding in the bathroom was not safe and scared her, and most importantly could have landed each of them in the principal's office. She told them that she'd need to contact their parents to let them know what happened. And since B's teacher is so tender-loving and compassionate, she saw the worry in their eyes and reassured them that it would be okay. She was still laughing as she finished her story and told me that she simply wanted us to know what happened and didn't expect any further incidents. I aplogized profusely, still in shock (B?), and told her that I'd be speaking with B this afternoon. The teacher laughed again and said that she was honestly very surprised at this group because they are "without a doubt the least likely to cause trouble...EVER". I agreed and couldn't wait to hear B's side of the story. Later that afternoon, B was waiting apprehensively on her bed. She looked up with her giant blue eyes pooled with tears as I approached her. I sat on the floor in the bedroom with my back propped up against her dresser. She slowly walked towards me and sat a few inches away, hands wringing her shirt in her lap. Her dad followed me in and plopped himself on the floor beside me. I asked if she had anything to share with me. She began her story, fighting back tears. Her daddy and I listened intently, trying unsuccessfully to appear extremely upset. Finally, after B wrapped up her story about wanting to get away from a friend that was "bugging" them, so she and a friend tried to hide but were followed by two other friends. I asked her if she made a good decision. She smiled shyly and said, "no". I asked her why and she responded quickly, "Cuz, I coulda had to go to the principals' office." And just like that we let her off the hook. Lesson learned (hopefully), point made (hopefully). I am still in slight disbelief, as B isn't often the leader and I'm always hoping she'll take the reins and make her own path. Today, she did.