"Don't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry."

Baby Boy had a cold Monday and I gave him some medication which knocked him out after lunch.

He was resting comfortably when I got the phone call.

"Jennifer? Hi, this is (Middle Child's teacher). Um, we had a little incident and the principal needs you to come to the school immediately."

It turned out that after gym class, Middle Child's teacher annointed him with the seemingly prestigious role as "the caboose" in the line-up back to their classroom. One boy decided he'd rather be the caboose. Middle Child told him that he couldn't; that it was his turn. Then the boy pushed Middle Child to the ground.

Even when he was a baby, Husband and I nicknamed the kid "The Hulk" because he'd be all mild-mannered but then the shit would hit the fan and he'd totally lose his cool.

That's what happened on Monday.

Middle Child got up, pinned the kid to the wall and bit him on the shoulder, leaving a pretty decent mark.

The teacher and principal were great about the whole thing. "He's not entirely to blame, is he?" the principal said to me when I got there. "Yeah, but it doesn't excuse his reaction," I replied.

I took him home where he wrote a letter of apology to the boy ("I'm sorry I bit you. The next time I will solve my problem with words," he wrote. "I'm not going to say he was right or anything because he wasn't right," he explained). We agreed to a suitable punishment (no Star Wars anything for five days) and then I called Husband to concur.

When I explained what had happened, Husband proudly said, "That'll teach that kid not to mess with The Hulk."