Incident Report

Oh the dreaded “incident report.”  A one page, illegible paper that comes home from preschool, generally three days after said “incident.”  It’s a fluid document; quite versatile— used in a variety of situations from playground road rash to well… you’ll see.

The last incident report we got for Jake was around August when he moved into his new class.  I’m actually not sure we even got a report, as the incident happened around pick-up time, which I guess is the ambiguous cusp of documentation compliance.  That one involved another boy named Hudson and mutual roaring in faces and ended with Jacob ineffectually stabbing him in the back with a pair of blunt lefty scissors.

Now we know why all kids across America have questionable scissor skills— clearly by design.

So when I came home earlier this week and Daddy said, “Jakey, you need to tell your mom about the incident report today,” I fittingly braced myself.

Here’s what Miss Amy wrote:

While we were lined up to go outside, another child put her hands on both sides of Jacob’s face.  Suddenly the other child kissed Jacob on the lips.  I was right there and immediately corrected the behavior.  I explained to both kids that kissing should be between families and not to kiss other kids at school.

Here’s how Jacob described it:

Jake: I don’t know… I was standing there and Dahilyn kissed me.

Me: Daylene?

Jake: She’s a Spanish girl.

Me: A Spanish girl?  You mean she speaks Spanish?

Jake: Yes.  She kisses all the boys.  She’s always kissing Taco.

Me: Taco?  Who’s Taco?

Jake: You know.  The boy I told you is always running around and kicking people.

Me: What did Miss Amy say?

Jake: She laughed.

Looks as though incident reports also allow for a bit of creative license.  Easy to recast yourself as disapproving disciplinarian instead of normal person who unexpectedly snorts with laughter when kids act like kids on the playground.

Kissing?  Whatever… more importantly, I gotta meet this boy Taco.



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