The other boy retorted, âItâs the weekend.
My dadâs got free time.
How come yours doesnât? Youâre lying! Now, get down on your knees and bark like a dog!â
As he said this, he moved closer and pushed Sheldonâs head down, trying to force him to the ground to make him bark.
Sheldon, being smaller, was quickly pushed down by the boy.
His forehead hit the ground, and his eyes filled with tears from the pain.
Yet, he clenched his lips tightly and remained silent.
Instead, he reached up to scratch the boyâs face and pinch his skin.
The pain made the chubby boy release Sheldon and start crying loudly.
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âDad, come here.
He hit me!â
The three pairs of dads and their sons, engaged in kicking, rushed over one by one.
The boyâs father, a tall and muscular man in his thirties with a stern look, seemed tough.
Seeing the scratches on his sonâs face, he became furious.
He turned and slapped Sheldon across the face.
âHow could you scratch my sonâs face like that? Say youâre sorry to him!â
He hit Sheldon so hard that Sheldon lost his balance and fell.
The left side of his face swelled up right away.
Tears filled his eyes, but he did his best not to let them out.
Elma, who had been on a call nearby with her family, saw what happened, quickly ended her call, and rushed over.
âWhatâs going on here?â
âNanny Elma.
â
Sheldon burst into tears at the sight of her, his voice breaking with each word.
Elma lifted Sheldon upright.
Seeing the swelling on his forehead and chhek, she was both shocked and furious.
âSheldon, who did this to you?â
Sheldon pointed at the man and his son.
âThem.
â
âHumph, my dad taught him a lesson!â the chubby boy yelled proudly.
Elma, seeing the handprint on Sheldonâs face, shook with rage.
âSir, heâs just a child.
How could you hit him like that? How cruel!â