In first grade we had this certain part of the playground we called "the boys club" (yeah I know pretty gay) all recess we would spend it holding down our fort, so one day 4 girls unknowingly walk into our territory and we warned them "GET OUT, THIS IS THE BOYS CLUB!". and they wouldn't move so I picked up a pretty good size rock, closed my eyes and hucked it in their direction. It hit one of the girls right on her temple, with my luck being that it was the only black girl in the school named Wanda. I immediately knew I was in deeeep shit so I tryed getting out of there as quick as I could but the teachers ended up finding me and took me into the office. The principle was askin me my reasoning for throwing the rock and I kept saying "but they were in the boys club!!!" but he wasn't really havin it, he just thought I was some racist little punk. So he brought Wanda into the office and I had to apologize to her face to face. Pretty awkward if you ask me. From up until eighth grade he had kept a close eye on me (but I still got in tons of shit with frequent stops to the office all the time).
and it was a lot worse cause my mom was the art teacher there.
God I hated elementary school.