Angel watched his small son barrel across the floor of the classroom, energetically jumping around with his tiny friends. Angel shifted uncomfortably, feeling overgrown and out-of-place wedged into a small, sticky plastic chair. The hot lights of the classroom bore down on him. A middle-aged woman to his right kept trying to catch his eye, her smile suggestive. Angel smiled awkwardly, hoping he wouldn't be forced in engage in any unnecessary small-talk.
"Mr Angel?"
Angel snapped back to attention, concentrating on the blandly pretty young teacher in front of him. She smiled nervously and Angel wondered if Cordelia was right, and he should have opted for a white sweater instead of his usual all-black. Something about being less intimidating.
"Mr Angel, your son is showing wonderful work. He's very bright for his age, really, quite intelligent. He has picked up basic reading, writing and math with ease."
Angel beamed, a feeling of pride swelling up inside of him. He smiled across the room at his son, but then the young teacher lowered her eyes and cleared her throat.
"There's just one thing we thought we should mention."
The nervous feeling returned, and Angel leaned forward in his chair, preparing for the worst.
"It's just … your son lifted another child over his head in Gym class."
Angel felt a flood of relief and amusement wash over him, and he relaxed back in the chair, trying to suppress a chuckle, and reminded himself to have a talk with his son about the proper way to interact with other children.