Sometimes There Are No Words

Here's how it went.

And I always know to brace myself when a kid starts with, "Mom I gotta tell you what happened."

Josh was doing stretching exercises in football yesterday when an 8th grader with poor decision making skills decided to make an inappropriate comment on my son's butt.

To that, Josh reached into his pocket, took out a big rubberband bracelet thing and pegged the kid in the forehead knocking him backwards.

Me: You shot him IN THE FACE?! You could've gotten his eye!
Lane: yeah, why didn't you just punch him?

I don't even know what to say.

So I said "Tell Dad when he gets home."

But he didn't know what to say either.