"Knock, knock." There was a knock on the front porch. Pat opened the door, and outside stood 3 police officers.
"Yes, how may I help you?" she asked.
"Someone reported a case of child abuse in this unit," one of the police officers said.
"You've got the wrong house," Pat replied. "I didn't call anyone." Suddenly, her 13 year old son Pearson emerged.
"I did. I called the police," he said. The officer looked at him. "What happened?" he asked. "And who's the abuser?"
"It's my mom here," Pearson replied. "She hit me with this rattan stick."
The officer then turned to Pat. "Is that true?" he asked. Pat sighed. "I found out my son lied about being sick to avoid taking an exam," she replied. "Not only that, he has been hanging out with some school dropouts, and they have been picking pockets. I was heartbroken, so yes, I hit him on his legs using the rattan stick."
"Kid, how many times did she hit you?" the officer asked.
"4 times, with the rattan stick," Pearson replied.
"Has she ever hit you before, or with any other object?" the officer continued.
"No, just the rattan stick," Pearson said. "But officers, I want you to arrest her." His tone was angry. Hearing this, the officers shook their heads.
"So you called the cops because your mom disciplined you?" the second cop asked.
"It's not discipline," Pearson insisted. "It's called child abuse. I know my rights." The first officer looked at him.
"You know what?" he said. "We're going to come back here again. And if we find out you're still pretending to be sick to skip school and picking pockets, we'll arrest you ourselves. Now get inside." With that, the police officers took their leave.
