Why We Fight

My mother appeared in the doorway to the Head Teacher's office, looking as close to furious as I had ever seen my calm, collected mother look. Her face was tense, her hands clenched tightly at her sides, so hard that her knuckles had turned white.

Uh-oh...I'm toast.

I sat in the hard wooden chair across from the Head Teacher's desk. The teacher, Catherine, did not look any happier than my mother. My ears were still ringing after the long, drawn-out lecture I'd gotten from her about five minutes earlier.

Then again, I thought, Once I tell Mom why I did it, she'll understand...I hope.