When our son started kindergarten, I held my breath. I knew he would be a handful. Things were going along pretty well until the day he pulled the fire alarm, which he did during lunch hour. The whole school was in chaos. I got a vivid description from the principal. I felt awful. I'll always be grateful to the teacher who said that my son was not a bad kid and I shouldn't let the principal convince me any differently. But not so from my son's teacher. She had nothing good to say about him. But then, she had nothing good to say about the other students either. That was when I began to get suspicious. I was more suspicious when my son began to bring his work home with sad faces stamped on them. He was learning the letter "B." One of his papers was a drawing of a tree with a lot of hidden le…