A couple of years ago, my cousin’s son…let’s call him Jared…got into some trouble at school. It started at recess. (Doesn’t everything?). Jared had been climbing on a play structure, then fell and injured his penis. Not surprisingly, he was crying. Jared and a pair of his Grade 2 buddies went to the bathroom. Mischief ensued.

Jared began by examining himself to ensure, well, whatever he needed to ensure. Soon, the other two boys started dancing and singing, while Jared simultaneously continued his inspection and joined in the dance party.

In walked two other Grade 2 boys. They saw (a) Jared, (b) Jared’s penis through the zipper, and (c) three boys laughing.

The two new boys hightailed it out of there and told a teacher. Jared and his buddies were sent to the office.

They had to fill out a version of a student confessional.

Jared’s note has since been lost, but thankfully his mom had typed it verbatim into a word document.

Here is Jared’s confessional (pines = penis):

I’m pretty sure Jared learned some sort of lesson that day. It might be that laughter and dancing make everything better. Or that doing up zippers is a tricky business.

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