"Mr. Fusaro, we need to talk to you?"
Those are the words I didn't want to hear when I answered the phone call from the lead counselor from my boys' summer camp facility.
"Which one did it? Christopher or Nico?"
"Christopher. He bit another student on the arm. The bite broke skin, and there was a little bit of blood."
"How is the other child feeling?"
"He's good. The parents just left camp with him for the day. But he will be back."
"Well, I can assure you I did not raise my son to be a vampire. And we just aren't into cannibalism."
"We didn't think so. Can you come in? We'd like to talk about discipline."
I can't believe this. My son is that kid who bites other kids! Can I blame the dog for teaching him bad manners? I'm not a bad parent. Maybe he's just going through late teething. Perhaps the other boy teased my son like a dog, and he acted out like a dog? When school starts, will he tell the teacher that he ate his homework? I feel embarrassed. What do I say to the camp counselors? "Sorry, my son is eating other children. He's well fed at home."
After a long conversation with camp counselors and a private meeting with Christopher, I established rules for Christopher to abide by.
No eating crayons or human body parts.
Red-dyed corn syrup is way better than actual blood.
Listen to the counselors.
No talking back.
Defend yourself if necessary.
No growling at other kids.
After our long talk, I left. Jumped in my car and sat in my seat, staring out the front windshield at the other kids as they played basketball and performed other fun camp activities. Then, I observed Christopher walk out of the camp doors. I wondered what he would do now after being talked to about biting and not being allowed to go to camp tomorrow.
He wandered out to the pavilion, where he walked around. Two of his fingers from his right hand were in his mouth. A habit I still can't break. He began to spin in large circles. Was he going to find a place to sit? Maybe he is looking for a place to pee? I'm being very dog-conscious.
He did neither. He walked onto the basketball court. Maybe he was going to fetch some basketballs? Nope. He kicked an empty water bottle around. I was impressed with his footwork. Even more impressed, he placed it in a recycling bin.
The good thing is he wasn't chasing other kids around in a rapid rage. He stayed to himself and clung on to the fence. He used the checkered fence pattern as a telescope lens, peering at the other kids on the baseball fields about 50 yards away. Was he processing what he did? Maybe he was contemplating his place in this world? How could a simple bite cause a chain reaction affecting his daily routine?
He was a kid who was rationalizing the 3 different conversations he had that began with 2 camp counselors and then answering to the top dog, his father. He realized he was in some kind of trouble, but not enough to cause himself a spanking. I could tell by his lack of action that he didn't want to participate in the other children's games. Was he embarrassed? Pissed off that I lectured him? What's going on in that mind of his?
He turned his head and saw a group of children, who he then ran towards. They were playing tag. He happily participated with them. He quickly forgot about the problems he was facing and just continued to enjoy the day. He was finally a kid being a kid and not the dog I was called about. He assured me no more biting; that will assure me no more camp phone calls.
650 words.
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