So here's my thing. There's this kid I work with...don't know how deep into details I can get without confidentiality stuff getting busted, but we'll call him K. K.'s a tough kid. He's developmentally delayed, was born drug addicted, and has had a straight-up shitty life, right along with getting adopted by a couple that promptly divorced after alleged sexual molestation. This kid has issues. He's a sweet kid, but he was kinda my nemisis for a long time. I'm a Teaching Assistant, but what I really do is Kid Wrestle. When children become assaultive, destructive, or dangerous, I restrain the kid, bring him to a time-out room, and restrain him if the dangerous behavior continues. It's not a part of my job I like, but for a long time I thought it was all my job was going to be about. I thought that because of K. The kid would flip out about anything. His shoes, his work, his desk, anything and he would be flipping over desks, throwing things, and ...