Give me a black and white stripped shirt and call me a referee

Call me naive but when I was nine or ten years old, fighting with other girls was the furthest thing from my mind. Maybe I called a girl a name or looked at them and stuck my tongue out a couple times, but I know for sure that I would not tell them that I would kick their $&! and I will see them on the bus. Geez. It is a beautiful day here and I decided to let the kids have about twenty minutes outside and then I have to break up fights. I was afraid one of the girls was going to kick my $#@. Ohhh the joys of being a teacher.