Once Bitten

I was bitten today.  I was at school, minding my own business when J____* came up behind me, opened wide and munched my back.   Luckily, his teeth didn’t break the skin, but they did leave quite a mark by which to remember the unpleasant event.  Of course, upon feeling J___’s little chompers cinch down on my skin, I let out a scream.  The teachers came running to comfort me and the director called my mom (a couple hours later!) to tell her about the incident and my mom immediately emailed my dad.  My parents were upset but were told by other parents not to worry, biting is a fact of life amongst the toddler set.  J____ was transferred to a new classroom, but I still see him, and it makes me a bit upset each time.  My mom chalks it up to PTSD.  I’m working through my issues, but as the saying goes: once bitten, twice shy.  

*The biter’s name is kept from the bitee’s parents--to head off any retaliation--so, to maintain the bitee’s anonymity (and since my dad threatened to beat up the biter), I have referred to him here as J___.

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