Survived?

I'm back from kindergarten hell and I must say it was just as I expected.... Urg.
So: one little Machiavellian prince was enlisting the help of his table-mates to gang up on the slowest worker of the group. When I tried the standard "How would you feel if..." approach, the response was "We wouldn't care, right guys?" I told him I did not believe him, and that I was certain there were quite a few things he cared about. I stopped myself from naming them, as this might start sounding a bit like a threat......
BUT: I did have my chance to make a point. He went out of his way to let me know that he had finished his work. I looked him straight in the eye and said "So? Should I care?"
He didn't speak to me again for the duration.
God I hate this shit.
Mind you, I have worked with kids. I can work with kids, but it has to be on my terms, and I control the environment a hell of a lot more than can be expected of a room full of 19 boys and 6 girls all between the ages of 5&6 who are being expected to do work well above their emotional qualifications. I still sincerely and wholeheartedly feel that Kindergarten should be about learning how to share and get along and all that old-fashioned crap, and not about learning how to add, subtract, and finish sentences. But maybe I'm just biased, as my kid has been politely termed a "late bloomer" which in public education speak is code for "Fucked when he gets to first grade." Already, this soon out the gate, he hates school.
And given what I've seen, who could blame him?

It ain't and it is

Right. So why is it I decide to start on this sort of thing five... well, no... ten minutes before I have to walk out the door?
I suppose its safe to say that this is a test run.
I got six hours sleep last night (no fault but my own) and now I have to go "help out" in my child's kindergarten class. There's no way out of this one- I already missed the last three "visits" I should have made, but I can't help the queasy feeling and the dread with which I'm watching the clock count down.
Its my motherly duty, right? I should feel happy- nay, proud to be walking in that room.... Right.
Fuck.
The truth is I have very little patience for the machinations of ankle-biters, and believe me, they may be small, their brains might only be partially developed, but they have machinations- and no, much as many self-deluded mommies would like to believe, these are not innocent plans. These kids are plotting, mark my words, against each other and the world at large. The have formed alliances, and perform surgical strikes at one another- believe me, I have seen it.
The problem is, it never really looks right when I skewer one with my most malevolent gaze and tell them that I know what they're up to and I'm not impressed. It tends to make them cry.....
Oh lord help me, I have run out of time. Wish me luck, and pray for those sweet little angels, here I come....