"Kevin offered no explanation to why he did this," Miss Blake said sadly, the ponytail swaying ghoulishly in her hands. "I just have to say that Kirsty is very nearly bald now, and her mother is VERY upset."
"Are you sure it was Kevin?" I asked pathetically.
"Oh yes. I saw him do it in one fell swoop. He wouldn't even let go of the ponytail, look." She rolled up her sleeves to show me deep red half-moon cuts up her wrists and arms. There was even one on her neck. Kevin's nails. She continued to shake her head sadly. "I just don't understand. I mean they were even safety scissors, they struggle to cut PAPER! But he did it in just one cut."
As she stared into space, I shifted uncomfortably. The other mothers would hate me. She seemed to brighten, though.
"Anyway, it's not ALL bad news, Mrs. Miller, though this incident is very, very bad."
I was like a child being scolded. "So that's all he did?"
"Oh no, it was a catalogue of disaster. He pushed several boys and girls, disrupted the lunch queue, destroyed art supplies and pupil projects, even scribbled on classroom walls!" I cringed. His crime at home. "But I would like to get onto the good news, if I may. I feel Kevin is very bright, exceedingly bright, and well-advanced."
I perked up, staring at her. He'd say blunt sentences at home and was disgracefully disruptive.
"He does not partake well with English-he will not read when prompted, won't answer questions, does not wish to write from the imagination. However, he is very advanced mathematically. His head is like a calculator. I suggested some simple addition exercises, aided by blocks, and though he pushed them around boredly, he was always correct, even with the larger numbers. I got excited, and took the blocks away, and began to ask him to write down the answers to sums I would dictate aloud. I had a calculator, and he was always correct. Which is more, he is capable of subtraction, division and multiplication too, and has already mastered square root, decimals and percentages!"
I was impressed, I was. But the ponytail hung off her knee, and I knew that for a while, nothing this child could do would impress me. I let her witter on, then I went home, packed my bags, and left.