I always looked forward to the first time my son's school would call for a meeting in the Principal's office. I expected it to be this great moment of Luke's fight against the establishment -- I pictured how I would sit there, outwardly trying to look concerned, but inside feeling terribly proud of his rebellion.

So when I received the "call" in Luke's first month in pre-school, I couldn't have been more elated by his early uprising.

...bubble burst May 16, 2001...

Upon entering the school, I see Luke running around the playroom in nothing but a diaper. I get this look from two other parents walking by, and everything fades into slow motion. I hear the muffled laugh of the teacher's assistant. Someone hands me a little plastic bag with his clothes in it, and brown smear marks running down the side. The school secretary runs over, with her loud voice echoing, shouting that my son has had a HUGE EXPLOSION -- in fact the BIGGEST ONE they have ever seen.

I am ushered into the principals office and all of a sudden I feel like I'm five years old again, waiting in the empty office for her entrance. After the laughter faded, the principal came in and we had a lovely discussion on my son's diet. But I couldn't pay attention. I just nodded, just like when I was five.

All I could do was think this out.. was this merely the Poop of the Century -- another smear of excrement on the lunchroom wall -- or was this in fact my little son making a much larger statement? Perhaps about the condition of the public school system in New York City? Or something greater?

Whatever it may have been, when we got home my son never brought up his cause. And I found the plastic crap-filled baggie behind the dryer four days later.
-- Spit'nKitty