Hugs, Not Kicks to the Head

Yesterday I covered for a rec class. It was all well and good until one little girl burst into tears. Her twin sister had kicked her in the head.

"I didn't mean it!" said the Kicker, eyes wide.

Her twin sat on the low beam and bawled.

"Go hug your sister," I said. "Make her feel better."

Kicker sighed.

"Let's go," I said.

She ran to her twin, tapped her on the shoulder in a faux one-armed hug, and ran back. "I did it!"

"A real hug," I said. "Minimum of five seconds."

Kicker signed more loudly. This time she hugged Weeping Twin by the leg for a instant. Weeping Twin cracked a smile.

"You want to sit out the rest of beam?" I said in my don't think you can sass me, little girl voice.

Kicker obliged, embracing her sister and counting onetwothreefourfive in one breath. "I did it," she said, exasperated. Weeping Twin laughed, her head trauma now healed.

So much love.