Mrs. Grindlegrowl liked an orderly classroom. She liked rules, rules, rules. She had so many rules, that little Grindlewylde couldn’t help himself. It seemed like he was always getting into trouble.
Mrs. Grindlegrowl frowned when he crawled under the chairs, pretending to be a guinea pig. And she scowled when she discovered that he had fired staple-shaped projectiles at the class, using the stapler from her desk. But when he made origami throwing stars and pretended to be a ninja, she had three words to say: Detention, Detention, Detention.
Little Grindlewylde was not happy about this. He fussed all the way home, to anybody who would listen. He argued that Mrs. Grindlegrowl never told him that he couldn’t play ninja, that this was a silly new rule that she invented because she was just plain mean.
His mother, Grindlewyse, being a very loving and kind dragon, would hear none of his excuses. She patiently explained that little Grindlewylde had broken a rule, and that he needed to be punished. Then, she told him that his punishment was fair, and that she agreed with Mrs. Grindlegrowl.
Grindlewylde huffed & puffed and a tiny wisp of smoke came out of his throat. But Grindlwyse did not change her mind. And neither did Mrs. Grindlegrowl.