Middle school hunger games

I’d like to paint a little picture for you of how I “chose” my middle school, or junior high as it was called in my hometown.

My siblings and I piled into our 1990 red Suburban one warm August morning. My lips were frosted to pink perfection, I was 25 years ahead of the VSCO trend with my new hair Scrunchie, and my mom was on the verge of an aneurysm because we were already 10 minutes late. (Some things never change). We dropped my little sister off at the neighborhood elementary school, drove 5 minutes up the road to my new junior high school, I got out, and that was it.

Finito. Done. School chosen.

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#Metoo at home

My twins are in the same class at school, and for the past few months my daughter has complained off and on about a boy bothering her. He is rude to her, insults her, yells at her, the list goes on and on. Every time she brought this up, my son would get very angry because it just so happens that this other boy is a friend of his. He felt hurt that she said bad things about his friend. She felt hurt that he didn’t believe what she was saying. Everyone would blow up at each other and then go off to their own corners until the topic inevitably came up again.

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