Enlisting the Help of the Coach

I want to paint your nails Mrs. Kay. No, I say. It might hurt. She rolls her eyes and says, "Painting your nails doesn’t hurt!" I say," I have heard it is like having your hair cut. Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" She slaps herself in the forehead. She is nine, and is easily lured in. We have a little talk. She is pro nail polish; I am con, telling her I think it will hurt. She is trying to reason with me; I pretend I am fearful. She is a drama queen, and totally overreacts. We are friends at school. She wants to be in my office all the time. She has NO problems; high self esteem, but she loves me. I had asked for her at this time and her teacher said she could not come. Ten minutes later the teacher sent her down. I am sure she was bugging the teacher to let her come. The coach walks by, and she says, "“There is the coach. I am going to ask her if it hurts to paint your nails.” She opens the door and yells, "Coach, does it hurt to paint your nails?” I do not even have to nod my head. The coach says, “Oh, yes. It hurts as if you are on fire.” The eight-year old leaves us saying, “you are both crazy”. We smile at each other.