Hear Me Roar

There's a bully on the school bus.

It happens all the time, I'm sure. We read about it...we hear about it...we feel sorry for the victims, and we can even find it in our hearts to feel sorry for the bullies. And as long as it doesn't directly affect us, we can sigh and move on.

But this time, it's my kid.

He comes off the bus, his young shoulders sagging. There's a fresh bruise on his forehead.

"What happened?" I ask, eyeing the bluish lump. "Did you fall?"

"No. A boy on the bus did it."

My little boy is perfect bully target. I can see that. While most boys his age enjoy running outside and kicking a ball around, he prefers sitting hunched over a thick book, head bent, glasses sliding to the tip of his nose. He's small. And he's not assertive. He won't fight back...probably doesn't even know how to.

I'm angry.

The bully is another mother's little boy. He may have low self esteem, or some behavioral issue, or something going on in his life... I don't know. I don't know what is causing the behavior.

And, frankly, I don't care.

He's hurting my son, displaying a cruelty unfathomable to me, and I can't find it in me to spare any sympathy for him.

"Why does he do it?" he asks, looking at me with such a wistful expression in his clear eyes. "I never did anything to him."

His expression is so sad, my heart is breaking into a million pieces. I choke back the tears. I don't have the answers.

I close my eyes, and I visualize the scene - my son on the floor of the school bus, pinned down by the much bigger boy, his head repeatedly pounded against the hard surface - and I am livid. My normally mild mannered self is gone; transformed into a tiger.

I call the school principal in the morning. He's not surprised. He makes a "deal" with the bully. If there are no complaints against him between now and Purim, he gets a special prize.

A prize? Prize?? Uh uh...not good enough for me. I am a tiger. I want blood.

My little boy seems satisfied. He doesn't want me to call the other mother, so I don't. Yet.

But I tell him, "If he hurts you again, I will go down to school, grab that kid by the collar and tell him, 'you touch my kid again....you even go near him...I will personally come down here and break your bones'."

He smiles and looks at me. He doesn't think I'm serious.

"What if he does do it again? Will you really beat him up?"

I smile back. "I just wanna scare him. He won't do it again if I scare him enough."

But...what if he does? Would I do it? Would I?? He's just a kid himself, and I'm a grown woman. Of course I wouldn't do that. Of course not!

But don't test me.

I'm a tiger.