Toughen up

Yesterday I summoned up all my courage to speak to Mrs M again, bottled it and made my husband do it. A man of few words, he told me everything was 'fine' and that Mrs M had agreed to look into the name-calling.

Call me paranoid, but at pick-up time it seemed that Mrs M was refusing to catch my eye. She did, however, bend down to Milly and say, "Tell Mum it's sorted."

Greatly relieved, I asked, "How did Mrs M sort it?" 

Milly: "She told me that if the boys do it again I should tell them they've got tiny brains."