A Reason To Look Angry

The child’s face is as red as his mask, which is red. The principal says, “He needs a place to cool down”. He looks like he needs a refrigerator. I wish he had a popsicle; he needs one for sure. I give him two choices- talk or just play. He chooses to play, a good sign. Some come in so angry they choose to glare. I have ten grandchildren, so I easily ignore this. When he is ready to talk, he turns into Mr. Delightful. He tells me his woes which do not sound like woes at all. I tell him I think this is silly stuff. I ask him “what do you think?” He agrees it is silly stuff. While we play with kinesthetic sand I learn more. He has some mean teenage sisters who pick on him. He has a brother he never gets to see, and another brother who died of a drug overdose. He says this matter-of-factly; he is eight. I am starting to think maybe he has a reason to look angry. An angry face almost always is a mask for sadness. I am sad for him. He continues to play, throwing out more information. I am not surprised; this is how it always goes in my office.