Because of Wednesday's horrible events, there was some uncertainty about how Thursday would play out, or if the whole thing had just gotten shitcanned.
One law was laid down: he wasn't going back to class. Maybe it's time to start thinking about the benefits of solitary.
So when he showed up at lunch, right around noon, the plan was to have him isolated in an upstairs break room. He wasn't going to be in the classroom. He wasn't going to be at recess.
Fortunately the gymnasium had two open spots, until 12:50 and from 2:20-2:50.
I ran his ass ragged in both.
It took the starch out. He could hardly walk the stairs when we headed up at 12:50.
The rest of the day was spent in pursuits that could hardly be called academic: He went to his behavioral therapy class, where he is given techniques to "have his motor running" at the right speed; and we played some Uno. Not a lot of learning going on.
I was going to bag tomorrow, seeing as how it's a half day and how I have an important job interview in the afternoon. But I decided not to bail out. I'm gonna steer this battered ship into the hahbah and then we'll see what happens.