Here's a photo of Mazie climbing off of the bus. The girl right behind her is Betty. I promised to tell you the story of Mazie and Betty on the bus, so here goes...

One day during the second month of kindergarten, I was just about to scurry out the door to meet Mazie's afternoon bus when the phone rang. It was Mazie's teacher, Ms.V. She was calling to let me know that as the bus was pulling away, but before it had left the bus lot, Mazie had gotten her finger stuck in a pencil sharpener. Ms. V had seen the bus stop in the lot, so she climbed on board to see if she could help. Mazie's finger was cut and bleeding. Mazie was distraught, and the little girl who had been responsible had been reprimanded. The offending child had an appointment with the assistant principal.

Right away, I knew who the little girl was. It had to be Betty, a third grader who has been assigned to sit with Mazie. It was Betty who told Mazie her cousin was Hannah Montana, Betty who takes kids' snacks, Betty who administers time-outs to Mazie if she speaks. When Mazie had worn a sticker on her shirt, Betty told her she'd better take it off because it could burrow through her shirt and skin, into her heart, and kill her. We had warned Mazie that she couldn't trust Betty and that she should not do what Betty tells her to do. Apparently, our warnings didn't stand the test of peer pressure.

After the phone call, I ran out to the bus stop and waited. As the bus swung into view, I could already see Betty standing up, sobbing. Betty's mom never actually comes to the bus stop, but waits outside their apartment building for Betty to run from the bus stop to the apartment. That day, the bus stopped in front of Betty's mom, and Miss Lois leaned out the window, presumably to let Betty's mom know what had happened. The bus rolled up to the bus stop and Betty tore down the steps and fled from the bus, her face clenched and tear-streaked. Mazie came off next, a little puffy-eyed, with a band-aid, but talking immediately about an art project she had brought home. Miss Lois asked if Mazie's teacher had contacted me and I said she had. Miss Lois rolled her eyes in a beleaguered way (this is Miss Lois's favorite form of nonverbal communication) and assured me that Betty would not be sitting with Mazie any more.

First of all, the damage to Mazie's finger was minimal. She had a cut on the tip of her index finger that nicked the nail and was deep enough to bleed a lot. (As an aside, and to calm the nerves of any protective family members, it healed completely within one week.) I gathered from Mazie, who is a very reliable historian for being only five, that Betty had told her to put her finger in the sharpener. Mazie had refused. Betty told her again, and Mazie refused again. Finally, Betty seized Mazie's finger and sharpened it forcefully. Mazie had started bleeding, then crying, and then the grown-ups got involved. Miss Lois had put ice from her soda on the wound, and then Miss V had arrived with reinforcements. The assistant principal had paid a visit to Betty before the bus even left, so Mazie felt that the matter had been dealt with urgently.

I also was satisfied that between the distress I had seen on Betty's face, the visit from the AP, and the fact that Betty was not to sit with Mazie anymore, that Mazie would be safe from further sharpening...

What a lesson! I realized it's important to arm my kids with a healthy enough sense of propriety and disobedience that they can stand up to a bigger kid when they're in danger. That evening, I had to tell Richie. I had been so mad that I was shaking when Ms. V first told me the news. But by the time Mazie told me all about her art project and seemed relatively unruffled by the sharpening incident, I had cooled off a lot. Richie usually takes things like this pretty hard, and this was no exception.

The next day, Betty came to the bus stop with her mom, who forced (with lots of verbal prompting) Betty to apologize and give Mazie an apology note. It seemed appropriate at first. Betty reluctantly said to Mazie, "I'm sorry. I thought your fingernails needed cutting. And that's not my place to decide." The suggestion was that it wasn't malice or even curiosity that caused Betty to sharpen Mazie's fingertip, but intense concern for her grooming habits. Though I am unconvinced that Betty divulged her motives with complete candor, Mazie accepted the apology and seemed very thankful for the three stickers with which Betty had embellished the card.

For those of you still feeling protective of Mazie, I think she survived the sharpening incident a lot more wary of other kids. In all, I am glad to have had an unpleasant experience that we could deal with fairly easily. I think we all learned from it.