Second Grade Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test and The Brazen Hussies

I wish I had thought to take the camera with me when I dropped in on my second grader's classroom Valentine's party to say hi, after dropping off cupcakes at his brother's kindergarten room.

I have never seen anything quite like it, except perhaps in 16mm films starring Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters. The room was piled with red and pink cellophane wrappers. My son was slumped backward in his seat in a diabetic coma. His lips twitched slightly when I spoke his name. About half his classmates appeared to be catatonically tripping at their own desks. The other half were doing extreme rhythmic gymnastics from wall to wall. Their dealers, the room parents, stood around watching, paralyzed, like they had accidentally started a fire.

"Here," I said to my son, picking up a miniature bottle of spring water from a treat bag and silently blessing whichever mother had thoughtfully included it in the swag. "I think you should drink some of this."

He rallied enough to unscrew the bottle top and pour in the packet of red kool-aid mix that had come with it. Of course. Didn't see that. I eased on out the door, hoping he would hit his bottom and find a recovery program before carpool.

By dismissal time, he had metabolized enough of the sugar and dye to have re-animated. On the way home, he and his brother had this exchange, which I thought perfectly plotted where each one is situated on the romantic love interest curve.

Second grader (excitedly): At recess? A whole pack of girls TRAPPED me and wouldn't let me go and I ran under their arms and got away but one caught me and I said, you'll NEVER catch me! And then? She HIT me with her lunchbag!

Kindergartner (appalled): What? She ought to be ASHAMED of herself!

Second grader (grinning): No she shouldn't.