There are children who are monsters

A child came to me about three months ago for correction. Let’s say Volodya. Or Tanya, it doesn’t matter. It was about seven. Maybe six, or even five.

Signed up. Canceled. Signed up. Canceled. I made an appointment a month in advance. “Wow! — I thought. “What interesting parents.” And she went to her colleagues to find out what kind of Volodya he was and what he was eaten with.

Naturally, the first to fall under the hot hand was the attending physician. So and so, he says, throws objects, pours water on the computer keyboard, poops on the sofa…