Teacher Bullies Girl Over Lunch, Mother Gets Revenge

Educate Or Humiliate

The rest of her peers were silent as Mrs. Davis, Sarah’s school teacher, reprimanded her. Humiliation, hot and excruciating, made tears spill down Sarah’s cheeks, and she tried desperately to hide her tears in her sleeve.

“Your mother should’ve taught you the importance of eating good food—healthy food—but I guess from the looks of you, she didn’t,” Mrs. Davis said, her eyes feeling like they were shooting daggers through Sarah.

Sarah glanced down at her lunch box. The sweets were halfway done, but the healthy snacks her mom had packed with them still needed to be prepared.

With cheeks burning and her throat constricted, she closed the lunch box lid and slid the container into her bag. She would never eat lunch at school again.

Good-Hearted Girl

7-year-old Sarah Jacobs had always been a well-adjusted and responsible young lady. She did her homework when she had to, turned her assignments in on time, and never gave her mom, Clarisse, a hard time.

Ever since she was little, she’d been more lively but also more responsible than her peers, and this was reflected in the way she conducted herself and always looked out for her friends.

In short, Clarisse felt blessed. But when things started going south for her daughter, Clarisse wondered if she had used up all her luck and if the dreaded teenage years would now come to claim their piece.

Bully

Despite always doing well in school, being a good student, and excelling with her grades, Sarah started experiencing her first negative situation regarding a teacher. At first, it had been small digs that she could ignore, as her mom had taught her to ignore all negative behaviors.

But now that it was escalating, Sarah was starting to feel increasing pressure and stress. She no longer enjoyed school, felt comfortable eating in class, and was beginning to think the teacher had a problem with her. A personal problem.

Clarisse had noticed a change in her daughter’s behavior, specifically her eating habits, but had chalked it up to a phase she might be going through. Like some sort of delayed terrible twos or threes since she never had them when she was small.

Best Friends

Being a single mother to Sarah, Clarisse had been blessed with a child that barely gave her any grief, and being only the two of them, they were closer than ever. It warmed Clarisse’s heart to know she was a safe space for her daughter.

The pair barely fought, and when they did, it was an outburst of laughter barely a half hour later. They joked together and gossipped together, and more often than not, they made sure to have at least two movie nights a month to spend time together.

Sarah and Clarisse were the epitome of a healthy mother-and-daughter bond. But when Sarah suddenly changed, Clarisse wondered if that delicate balance would now be disrupted.

Changes

One evening during dinner, Clarisse noticed that Sarah was more ravenous than usual. She was gobbling the food down like she hadn’t eaten in days, and she supposed she had since her lunch box came back full of food.

“Didn’t you eat at school today?” Clarisse asked, sawing through her lasagna with a butter knife. She glanced at Sarah and frowned; the girl was barely breathing as she absolutely inhaled her food.

“Yes,” her daughter answered, which only made Clarisse more suspicious. She hadn’t even eaten the pudding cups Clarisse had packed, and Sarah loved those. It was strange, and what was even stranger was the fact that Sarah was lying to her for some reason.

Pretty Little Lies

“Is everything okay, sweetie? Didn’t you like the lunch I packed?” Clarisse prodded, taking another bite of the store-bought lasagna. Sarah stopped for a moment, and something flickered in her face. She continued eating before Clarisse could process what it was.

“No, Mom,” she said through mouthfuls of meaty, cheese-y, gooey delight. “I just wasn’t that hungry today.” Clarisse’s eyebrows shot to her forehead at that proclamation, especially when she shoveled another heap of food into her mouth.

“Okay, sweetie. Was the pudding cup okay?” she asked again, but Sarah had lost interest and only nodded as she chewed. It was strange, she mused, but she didn’t bother her again. It was probably just a lack of appetite.

The Lunch Monster

Sarah pulled her lunchbox from her bag, and opened the lid to what she would consider a heavenly lunch. There was leftover lasagna and garlic sticks, with babybel cheeses and the pudding cup Sarah had never eaten yesterday.

But before she could even consider a bite, her fantasy was rudely interrupted by none other than Mrs. Thompson. “Whose lunch is so stinky,” she said, waving a hand in front of her nose. The kids in the class all turned to Sarah and her garlic sticks and started laughing and mimicking their teacher.

“Close your lunch box, Sarah,” Mrs. Thompson chided again, “Nobody wants to smell your stinky garlic sticks.” The lunchbox lid snapped closed with barely a thud, but her ears were ringing for the rest of the day as the kids bullied her for being “stinky.”

Starved

Sarah’s backpack thudded onto the dining room table as she threw it down, barely seated before she started gobbling the food down. She’d been at soccer practice all afternoon, and it was the first time she could eat something.

She’d been too scared to eat in front of her peers after school, especially after all the “Stinky Sarah” chants that she’d suffered during the day. Though she’d never tell her mother, her usually-bland food now tasted like something descended from heaven.

“You didn’t eat your lunch again?” her mother asked from behind her, the open lunchbox on the counter in front of her. Sarah shook her head, “I wasn’t hungry,” she lied again, despite the stomach grumbles she could still feel.

Something Fishy

Clarisse’s mind ran rampant the next day at work, remembering the last few times that Sarah’s lunchbox had come home still full of food. It was strange to see her child not eating at school, especially when she had sports in the afternoon and needed the fuel.

She thought about the way Sarah gobbled down her dinner every night and how desperate she seemed to be for every bite. It was like she had been starved for a week and finally given food, and Clarisse had no idea why.

And while she should be content to leave it alone, she couldn’t help but feel like there was something else afoot here. Her daughter had never struggled with eating, and now, she barely ate at school but overrated at home. She would get to the bottom of whatever this phase was, but before she could act, Clarisse got a call that made her blood boil.

Mother’s Wrath

The heels of her shoes clicked menacingly on the floor as she made her way through the school halls, right to the office where Sarah was waiting for her. Her blood was boiling so hot she was sure there was steam coming out of her ears, and her cheeks were hazing red.

As she entered, her daughter sat on the left-hand side of the entrance, opposite the boy with the bloody nose she’d probably socked in the face. Clarisse frowned when she saw Sarah’s tear-streaked face and immediately went to the front desk.

“I’m here to see the principal,” Clarisse said, not bothering to smile at the gray-haired, hooked-nose woman in front of her. “I got a call saying he needed to see me.”

First Rodeo

The lady typed a few things on the keyboard and then called ahead to let the principal know she was there. Clarisse immediately turned to Sarah then and crouched to her level. Her face was swollen and red, and her cheeks were tear-stained.

“What happened?” she asked, wiping a tissue down her daughter’s face. Sarah winced when she rubbed too close to her swollen cheekbone and shook her head, her eyes filling with tears again. “Did that boy hit you?”

Clarisse’s voice echoed through the office, the anger like a potent virus spreading through the silence that suddenly descended. It was not her first rodeo with this school, and judging by their anticipation, she supposed they hadn’t forgotten what happened.

Please Explain

Sarah just cried harder then, but they were interrupted by the lady summoning them into the office. Clarisse wiped her daughter’s tears, “We’ll finish this later.” Sarah sniffled and was barely able to compose herself before they were called into the principal’s office.

“Good day, Miss. Thompson, please take a seat.” The man said, motioning towards the two chairs across from his desk. He was round and short, with a balding head and small eyes that looked like he could barely see out of them.

Clarisse folded her hands into her lap and sat forward, “May I ask what this is about? My daughter just defended herself?” she was on edge and irritated, and by the looks of his face, he was very aware. Mr. Spalding cleared his throat, and rested his hands on his desk.

“It seems there has been an incident,” he said, and Clarisse had to swallow her snort. It seemed he was Captain Obvious today. “And we do not tolerate bullying, Miss Thompson. That is something we feel very strongly about.”

Misplaced Anger

Clarisse smiled viciously, “I am relieved to hear that because I want to know what is to be done about the boy who hit my daughter in the face.” The color drained from the man’s face as he realized she’d caught his implication and was deflecting it.

“Well, it has been brought to our attention that Sarah is here,” he gestured to her daughter, who was still wiping the tears from her face. “Was the one who started the fight between them.” Clarisse had expected this, and even so, her blood still boiled.

She knew her daughter, knew her limits and her capabilities, and she knew that this was far from the truth. Sarah had only once started a fight, and that was because of a My Little Pony sticker that a friend had stolen from her.

Defense Or Offense

“I will stop you right there, Mr. Spalding,” she held her hand up, effectively gaining the attention she wanted so that he might understand what would happen. “While I admit that my daughter does have self-defense lessons that might be helping her to do more harm than she intended, I can assure you that she was not the one who started this fight. And you, as her principal who knows her from our last interaction, should also know that this is not true. So I want to know what the steps are from here on, without my daughter being subject to any reprimand where I am not present.”

Clarisse scooted forward and kept the man’s eye contact, forcing him to make a decision. The previous encounter had been similar, and they had yet again tried to blame it on Sarah, only to realize that the girl she’d hit had been stealing things from other children as well.

“I cannot reprimand another child who was a victim of Sarah’s outburst, Miss Thompson. It would reflect badly on my ability to govern this school.” his face was flushed red now, and Clarisse was about to make him blow his gasket.

Outburst

“Sarah, did you hit that boy in the face unprovoked?” Clarisse asked, turning to her child. Sarah’s cheek was still swelling, and was now the size of a golf ball. “Be honest.”

Sarah looked up at her mom, tears in her eyes, and shook her head. Clarisse shrugged and turned back to the man, “There you have it. I want to know what will be done, and I will be informed directly.”

Clarisse grabbed her coat and bag and stood. Taking Sarah’s hand in hers, she turned back to the principal, “I have work to do, and I cannot sit here any longer. Please call my work number with updates. Do not speak to my child without my presence.”

Lunch Loser

“What happened?” her mother asked, barely buckled into the seat before the interrogation began. Sarah fiddled her thumbs, trying desperately not to cry again as she recalled what he’d said to her before she’d hit him. “Sarah?”

She looked at her mom, who was still bright red in the face and fuming, “They keep making fun of me.” she cried, covering her swollen face with her hands. The lump in her cheek from the soap bar he’d thrown was throbbing and hurt even more when she scrunched her face.

“About what?” Clarisse asked, her voice soft and lined with concern. But how could Sarah ever tell her mom without hurting her feelings? She put so much time and effort into every lunch; how could she ever throw that back in her mom’s face?

Confession

“You can tell me anything, honey. You know that,” Clarisse said, “Whatever it is.” And while Sarah was inclined to keep it to herself, the swell of emotion and sadness she felt pressing on her chest finally made her blurt it out.

“They keep making fun of me for my lunches,” Sarah whimpered; her tears were hot streaks on her face. “They say my lunches stink. And that I stink.” There was a small gasp of shock, and then her mother put a hand on her bowed back.

“That’s just nonsense,” her mother rubbed her back, “It’s just food? How can they find something worth laughing about in food? I’m so sorry sweetie.” But Sarah just sobbed, and when she started, she couldn’t stop. She remembered the ring of kids that had made fun of her, thrown soap at her, kicked sand at her. Sarah was heartbroken.

Normal Lunch

When they got home, Clarisse made Sarah a bubble bath of her dreams and sat with her for a while. She had stopped crying, but every time she bumped her cheek—caused by a bar of soap, Clarisse had learned—she would tear up again. It was safe to say she was completely knocked out when she got in bed.

Clarisse used the quiet time to pack Sarah’s lunch—a very neutral-smelling lunch of cucumbers, carrots, a sandwich, and some sweets. She couldn’t believe how cruel kids could be and over something like food, too. It boggled her brain, to say the least.

She supposed it explained why Sarah hadn’t been eating her lunches, and why she felt like she couldn’t. Clarisse felt horrible that she didn’t realize how her lunch might become a target for bullying, especially when she packed such unusual things like garlic sticks and lasagna, and whatever else the bland kids never got. But she hoped this would fix things.

The Naughty Corner

The next day, when Sarah awoke from her deep sleep, the swelling on her cheek was significantly less, which was already a sign of a good day. She ate breakfast with her mom who apologized and explained that she would pack less-weird lunches, and then she was off to school.

By the time lunch rolled around, her stomach was a knot of nerves, and even if she had known what might happen, it still could not have prepared her for the moment when it came. Her lunch was almost identical to all the other kids, but what set her apart from them was when the teacher suddenly berated her.
“Sarah Thompson! If you cannot chew with your mouth closed, then you can stand in the corner and eat!” her head snapped up from where she’d gazed at the carrots that seemed to be frowning at her. Embarrassed, she quickly swallowed and looked around.

Picking On Her

When Sarah didn’t immediately react, the teacher smacked her hand on the desk. “Go stand in the corner!” tears pricking her eyes again, she grabbed her lunch and moved to the corner marked in red, the same color that stained her cheeks.

As she ate, her throat started to close up with emotion, and the food turned to ash in her mouth. Her peers were snickering, and every so often, she felt a paper ball hit her back. It was only after everyone had eaten and packed their lunches away that she was allowed to sit.

“You didn’t even eat your vegetables?’ Mrs. Davis said, her nose pointed up in the air, and her eyes wide with what Sarah guessed was craziness. “How can you eat your sweets but not your veggies? Didn’t your mom teach you about healthy eating?”

Reprimand

The rest of her peers were silent as Mrs. Davis reprimanded her. Humiliation, hot and excruciating, made tears spill down Sarah’s cheeks, and she tried desperately to hide her tears in her sleeve.

“Your mother should’ve taught you the importance of eating good food—healthy food—but I guess from the looks of you, she didn’t.” Mrs. Davis said, her eyes feeling like they were shooting daggers through Sarah.

“If you only eat sweets, you won’t be healthy and strong, and your teeth will rot.” Sarah had taken a seat now and shoved her lunch box deep into her bag. But the teacher wiggled her finger, “No, take your lunch box out. You are not allowed to leave class until your veggies are finished.”

Overstepping

Clarisse glanced at her watch, the car below her rumbling every so often as the AC let out a burst of cool air. It had already been fifteen minutes, most of the children had departed, and Sarah still hadn’t come out of the school.

She checked her phone for emails and messages, made a few calls, and finally, after an hour, Sarah came walking out of the doors. Clarisse threw her hands up in question, “Where were you?” But at the sight of her daughter’s red-and-tear-streaked face, she immediately jumped out of the car.

“What happened?” she grasped Sarah’s face, her nose and mouth full of snot. “My teacher wouldn’t let me leave if I didn’t eat all my veggies.” her daughter sobbed in her arms, little shoulders shaking with sadness.

Outrage

“What do you mean she’s been mean to you? Is she bullying you?” Clarisse yelled in outrage, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” It explained her strange behavior, her poor eating at school, and why the kids were suddenly bullying her about her lunch. It all made sense now. They followed the example of their educator.

Sarah told her everything on the way home after having to convince her mom not to do anything right then and there. The teacher had been bullying her needlessly for the past few weeks and without a reason.

Sarah shrugged as she answered, “I don’t know. I thought I was being bad in class.” But Clarisse wasn’t too convinced about that, “No, I think you were scared I was going to say something to her.”

Sharing Is Caring

Apparently, Sarah has been reprimanded for eating too much or too little, too many sweets and too little veggies, too loudly, and then she wasn’t sharing enough. Some days, she’d have to give her entire lunch to the class, especially when she brought sweets. This boiled Clarisse’s blood.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me sooner, sweetie. I wouldn’t have embarrassed you.” But Clarisse knew it was because of the way she handled things. She had never been one for subtlety, and she supposed that might be undesirable for her daughter, especially with a teacher.

But she would not let this go. She’d promised Sarah that she wouldn’t confront the teacher directly. However, she hadn’t promised that she wouldn’t do anything at all. And no one got away with bullying her child, much less a full-grown adult.

Revenge Poppers

Apparently the teacher was lactose intolerant, and also had an aversion to spicy foods due to her stomach lining not accommodating it. So Clarisse conjured up a plan—one that would get her off Sarah’s back, and get the revenge Clarisse so desperately craved for that teacher messing with her daughter.

Gathering the ingredients, Clarisse got to work on her jalapeno-cream-cheese-filled fried poppers. She put extra love into the recipe with an additional helping of cream cheese in each popper, making sure the teacher would appreciate the gift.

She could only hope that Sarah didn’t end up eating them, so she made herself a serving of her own without the heaps of jalapeno. She would teach this woman a lesson about bullying her child, and if she wasn’t allowed to do it her way, then she’d get creative.

Gift For Mrs. Davis

Sarah woke up the next morning with swollen eyes and breakfast in bed. Her mom handed her a tray of her favorite chocolate chip pancakes, strawberries with whipped cream, and orange juice with pulp. It was a breakfast conjured from her dream.

“I need you to listen to me,” her mom said, taking a seat on the edge of her pink bed as she ate. “Don’t mind what your teacher says today, okay? She’s nothing but a bully with nothing better to do in her life. Finish your breakfast and get dressed.”

Downstairs, dressed in her favorite pink one-piece and white boots with braided hair, Sarah grabbed her unicorn lunchbox and started for the door, but her mom called her back, “There’s a gift in there for your teacher. Just make sure you give it to her.”

Unexpected Kindness

During lunchtime, just as Mrs. Davis was about to take her seat, Sarah decided it was time to give her the gift. It was so strange for the young girl to see her mother acting so calmly about the situation, and she was glad that her begging her mom not to do anything had worked.

Her mom thought she loved the woman and tended to be slightly overprotective, and sometimes, it got Sarah into even more trouble. But somehow, she’d gotten the message through to her mom, and she was so relieved.

“Hi, Mrs. Davis. My mommy made this gift for you,” Sarah said, smiling brightly, and handed her the blue lunchbox. She’d peeked earlier, and it was a few of the poppers she’d made for Sarah for lunch, which were her absolute favorite. The teacher grasped the case, her mouth forming an ‘o’ in surprise. “Why, thank you so much, Sarah. Hopefully, it’s a bit healthier than yours!”

A Gift That Keeps On Giving

When she opened the lunchbox and gazed inside, Sarah frowned at the comment she’d made. It was strange; she thought that someone who had received a gift would still be unhappy. But when her teacher looked disappointed, especially after her mom’s hard work, she was truly angry.

“Are you going to taste it?” Sarah asked, twiddling her thumbs in impatience. Mrs. Davis glanced at her, her eyes flickering with discomfort before she nodded. The teacher popped one whole popper into her mouth, her eyes widening with what Sarah guessed was surprised at the deliciousness.

But then her cheeks turned red, and she coughed. “Tell your mommy thank you,” she coughed, slurping up some of her coffee. “I’m going to leave the rest for later, okay?” but Sarah was so disappointed that she had only taken one bite.

A Bite Together

Sarah went to fetch her own lunchbox and carried it all the way to her teacher, “We can do a bite together if you want?” Mrs. Davis’s eyes widened, but she finally relented. She nodded quickly, her eyes flicking over the classroom and closed briefly before she popped another in her mouth.

“Thank you, Sarah. What a kind gift,” she coughed again and slammed the lid shut. Smiling, Sarah happily chewed along until she swallowed her food and made her way to her seat. The kids around her were laughing, pointing at Mrs. Davis’s blood-red face. She’d known the teacher had been embarrassed to like something unhealthy, but she didn’t know it was that bad for her.

A few moments passed, and suddenly, the teacher stood, her face still red and her eyes wide. “Don’t be naughty; I’ll be right back. I’ll know if you were naughty!”
The door slammed behind her with a force that rattled the windows.

Substitute

Clarisse pulled into the pickup line, still on the phone with an unhappy client, when she saw Sarah’s dark little head pop out from the throngs of children that exited the school building. She was smiling and happy, and her friends were laughing with her about something.

The call ended just as her daughter got in the car with a purple backpack slung over the seat and into the back. “Hey, sweetie, how was your day?” Clarisse asked, turning left at the end of the lot. “It was good,” she said, her face contemplative.

“It was weird, but Mrs. Davis had to go home in the middle of the day, so we got a substitute teacher. But she was nice, and we did some arts and crafts.” Clarisse strained to keep her smile from spreading, “You don’t say…”
Clarisse was smiling all the way home.