“Your son is wonderful and we want him here.” The principal tapped his pencil on the table while my husband and I waited for the inevitable caveat.
“We’re just worried that he’s not reaching his potential. We’ve decided that Tuli can come back next year as long as he’s working with a therapist.”
I can do that. I can do the therapist thing. I’ll take him to a million therapists as long as they keep him in school.
“Of course, we’ll get right on it,” I reassured the principal calmly, hiding my immense relief. He thanked us for our cooperation, and all was well.
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