Yeah and the day after my mother died I was riding my bike, laughing, talking with neighbors, doing anything to avoid the pain.
I was 22. You’re talking about a first grader. I’m sure they were having serious trouble coping.
Just does your mother dying have to do with a first grader trying to put his teacher into a hospital with a cracked skull and his scumbag mother laughing and bragging about her “little darling” and what he did?
Are you the little thug’s mother or what? I’m just sure he’s turned his life around and is now a model student.