"Show to Elizabeth teacher!" Ann was whispering, but I still heard her as I entered the other end of the room. "Oh! Where..." Peter dug through his backpack. Unfortunately, he found what he was looking for. As we started our morning routine, Peter waited patiently, uncharacteristically calm and quiet. Once we reached a point where I was accepting questions, his hand shot into the air. I stalled, calling on a few others first. Eventually, I had to pick him. "Yes, Peter?" His face cracked into a ridiculous grin and his hand opened to show his prized possession. "RING!!" he shouted. And with that he was out of his chair, charging straight at me. He grabbed my hand and tried to pry apart my fingers. "Just one time!" he insisted. Maybe I should have played along, but I didn't. Letting this infatuated 6-year old slip a ring on my finger could've haunted me for a long time. It seems his mom let Peter borrow her sc