Fabulous.

My son had to write a story for school that he made up. It will eventually be published in hardback with his illustrations. I won’t tell you the story verbatim, but here’s the basic gist: A boy is out on a boat, and he’s having troubles, so his three friends come to help him. As they’re bringing the boat back, limping along, they come upon a shark (IT WAS A SHARK! – My son has already mastered the “caps is yelling rule.”) So, the three friends harpoon it to save their lives. The come back to shore to have shark sushi. The end.

The rough draft came back.

No harpoons. No killing. Or come up with a different story all together.

We aren’t talking about a killing rampage. Or of a murderous person. Or of random animal killing for fun. Boys on an adventure in a ship kill a threat on the sea, thus saving themselves.

Apparently, this is the result of the “no tolerance” ban on weapons in the school. I’m surprised he wasn’t suspended, what with that threatening weapon on the page and all.

I have no idea of what to do. It’s not like I want to make my son the poster boy for free speech, or the poster boy in creativity without censorship. Apparently, if that’s not what I want, I have to instead teach my child the art of bending over gracefully and say, “Thank you. May I have another.”

I kind of hate parenting right now. And the school. And the school district. This is a fight we can’t win, so we’re not even going to try. Frankly, I have quite enough to deal with thanks… what with the psychiatrist appointment for my oldest later this week, and my mother trying to fry her dentures in flour last night (she wanted fried chicken. seriously.). Homeschool never looked better, frankly. But I kind of don’t have time for THAT too.