Ages 3-5
"Noah! Stop that immediately! We do NOT throw food at other people! Now, snack time is officially over, so if you aren't going to eat your cookies, then please just come to the carpet. No, Noah! That means stop throwing the cookies at Kurt! STOP!"
Mrs. Blake arose, flustered, and scurried hastily to the plastic, colour-oriented tables and relative seating area, attempting desperately and in fallible vain to disarm the ammunition wielding, adrenaline diffused Noah Puckerman, gripping him swiftly and, opportuning his momentary paralysis at the unprecedented predicament, grabbing his hands and forcibly removing the cookie crumbs, proceeding to dispose of them dismissively and haphazardly.
She succeeded to upholster the squirming, vanquished toddler in her arms, whilst simultaneously promoting the other to dismally accompany her to the carpet consoled area, demonstratively ignoring and disregarding the whiny remarks of Kurt, complaining despondently about his soiled attire. She abraded both children to the rug, and upon the moment that she remotely altered her ferociously determined and undeterred grip on Noah's fidgety and insubordinate form, he leapt in utter euphoria from her arms and tackled a girl sat, premonitiously poised, on one of the indefinite, formidably handsome squares that adorned the quilted rug. He condemned her to the ground, tugging her hair unprovokedly as she squealed in agonizingly sharp and volatile gasps.
"Noaaah! Stop it! That huuuurts!"
As she casually and moderately consolidated the silently sobbing Kurt Hummel, Mrs. Blake was incapable of pursuing the insensible scenario occurring aside her. Fortunately, another of the several toddlers under her fragmentary daycare surveillance ambushed the circumstance in his own, conformed manner.
"Stop it," Finn yelled, pushing Noah off Rachel's damseled and debilitated, vulnerable position and glaring at him deplorably, "that's totally mean! You can't do that!"
Noah returned Finn's scrutinizing gaze with equivalent contempt, protruded his tongue mockingly and retorted, sputtering, "Says WHO, loser?"
"I'm not a loser!" Finn cried in dismay, approaching his peer, "YOU'RE a loser!" With this, Noah pounced, emitting a terribly inhuman and frankly perturbing noise, legitimately clawing at the other toddler, wrestling pertinently, despite the hazardous risk of being periled by Mrs. Blake.
The woman, in turn, about to curtly address the situation, was interrupted by a joyously tumultuous screech melded with an agonized scream.
She turned promptly to witness Brittany, horrified gaze adorning her countenance, her hands adhesively mangled perpetually in Artie's hair, the latter wincing in evident pain as the girl pulled, perceptively attempting to free herself. This extravagant mess of deprecating horrors were being nonchalantly evaluated by Santana Lopez, grinning and cheering as though she were experiencing some gleeful game.
"Go, Brittany! You can do it! Rip out all of his hair!" she yelped recursively, giddy with exhilaration.
"No!" Artie implored contractedly, "please don't rip out my hair. It hurts."
None of the commentary, however, seemed to register comprehensively in Brittany's petrified stance, as she continued to tug, willfully endeavoring her hands to break free from whatever residue enclosed substance had managed to adhere them to the other child's head.
Mrs. Blake rushed over, quickly yet gently succumbing her grasp unto Britt's arm, preventing her from pulling any further.
"Brittany, stop," she instructed firmly yet composingly, "you're only going to get your hands further entangled and I think you're hurting Artie."
"I'm sorry," she gasped, eyes apprieving with water, "I didn't mean to."
"It's okay," Mrs. Blake nurtured, "just stop squirming and I'll get you two undone."
Apprehensively stated, she cautiously accommodated both children in her arms, proceeding towards the sink. She permitted the caressing stream of cascading water to unravel whatever had conjoined the two, while Brittany murmured, considerably cheerier and tranquil, about the cold temperature of the faucet.
After her hands were successfully emancipated, she smiled unsurpedly, and joined Santana, who was muttering disappointedly about the orderly solution composed to an otherwise preoperative adversity. Lucy waddled over to them, grimacing considerably.
"God, Brittany, I can't believe you got your hands stuck in someone's hair. That's so stupid."
"Hey!" Santana retaliated, anguish contorting her previously expressionless face, as alongside her, Britt's eyes again began to well tearily, "you can't call her that! That's a lie and it's mean!"
"So?" Lucy disregarded her accusation underwhelmedly, "YOU'RE mean, and I don't complain. Besides; it isn't a lie!"
Thoroughly aggravated, Santana punched Lucy's arm, eyes condoning a fiery glaze of preconceived loathe and dissonance, "SO WHAT IF I'M MEAN?! YOU'RE FAT AND UGLY AND GROSS!" she snidely shrilled.
"Alright!" Mrs. Blake, agitated, separated Santana and Lucy prior to an inevitably heated and oppressive quarrel, "That's enough, now come on over to the CARPET!"
Whilst she acquainted the two girls to the rug, Brittany prevalently following in apparent ambivalence, Tina approached Artie, who had laboriously descended from the countertop, and stuttered solicitously, "Are you okay?"
Artie nodded affirmatively, smiling slightly, and the two walked conservatively to a secluded corner to accompany Mike, who was playing coincidingly with letter-blocks.
In the opposite corner were located Blaine and Kurt, the former aiding in cleansing the latter's clothing and assuring him encouragingly.
Through the individual, recently polished and effectively dusted window was the translucently endeavored view of Sam and Mercedes, plausibly playing hopscotch.
And all the while, the mutual and conceptive equivocation between Finn and Noah continued at the front of class, with Rachel viewing horridly, eyes widened in a preemptively collected muse, and, as the clock struck 3, instigating her dismissal from her tedious work, Mrs. Blake could not be bothered to attempt to discontinue the unnerving fight.