'I hit jiejie', he says so happily as he throws the strongest punch he could manage at me, which to me felt like a soft push. Wanting to play along, I reciprocated with a whiny 'ouh' and pretended to be hurt. He hit me again, but this time with a nasty wickedness in his eyes. I wanted to kill the little devil in him but uhoh, it was time to keep up with the class and go back to class. I let it slip then, off my mind. Later then again, he hit me again (probably thought it was like a game to him) and again, I hadn't had the time to stop and talk to him. As I just watched over the kids, I realised that he was doing the same to his friends. It was then that I realised that I needed to step in and prevent the seeding of the violent tendencies. I went just a little louder and sterner but he was so petrified. He listened attentively to whatever I was throwing at him and replied all my questions rightfully. He understood that hitting was bad, would make me angry, and that he shouldn't hit his friends/teachers. He apologised, holding back his tears, we hugged and made up and it was all good. Just through this little incident... I finally acknowledged how much he has grown. It's amazing witnessing how much he has matured from I first met him - crying for mummy/just crying and staring at me when I do lecture him, probably not understanding whatever I said/ unable to enunciate words clearly. Oh how the little angel has grown. Wishing that he does grow up and doesn't grow up at the same time.