I have done this many times. The times I can remember most are in a special needs room I was in during Elementary school. I was put there because I am blind, but also more importantly because I've always been kinda slow to mature and keep up with other people my age. Probably because of Aspergers though I've never been diagnosed.
Anyway, I remember once in second grade when I made fun of a kid who had difficulty in saying the "r" sound. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings, I just like experimenting with weird dialect things and I thought the way he spoke was amusing as well as very fascinating. But teachers didn't like it and I got yelled at by a speech teacher at our school.
Another time I specifically remember is in third grade, I was in math class, in a mainstream group of kids. Math has always been one of my strong suits, at least simple mental arithmetic. This kid didn't know how to do a particular math problem that I thought was really easy, so he gave an answer which wasn't even close to being correct. It was so insanely wrong, not even logically wrong in my view, that I burst out laughing before I could stop myself. After all, I thought he was funny, and I was hoping he'd laugh at his own mistake and take it lightly. Very soon, someone was telling me to stop, and I knew that was a warning sign.
The class ended about 10 minutes later, and as quickly as I could, I ran out of there and headed back into the special needs room as I now call it. It wasn't uncommon for teachers in a mainstream class to report back to teachers in my special needs classroom and tell them how I was behaving, so I expected to get a real lecture. Initially nothing seemed amiss, so I started to relax. But I had no sooner than started an assignment when I heard voices outside the door. I knew something was up, but I tried to convince myself that it wasn't about me. Then they came into the room, and I heard somebody crying. Damn, here we go...
The poor kid was standing about two feet into the room, and it was all he could do to hold it together. He explained to me how he had gotten the answer which I had laughed at him about, which by now I had almost forgotten, and then told me I had hurt his feelings and that he didn't understand how I could be so mean. While I was deeply sorry for making him break down, I was only having fun and didn't mean anything. I really didn't think I could control it, so it wasn't done intentionally to hurt him. Not satisfied, the teacher criticized my intelligence, saying that an intelligent boy like me ought to know better.
That night, a note was sent home and my mom gave me another lecture. I was also made to write a letter to the kid I had hurt. I couldn't take it seriously. Not because he was a wimp or anything like that (even though I did think he took it too hard), but because I was fed up. I never seemed to get a chance to explain why I did the things I did. I wasn't looking for trouble, I had reasons, and if I could talk about those reasons with someone who wouldn't already have pretenses before we started, then maybe we could have a productive discussion about how I could improve myself. I wanted to understand why he was so upset, but I had no real experience to learn from, and everyone seemed to assume I would just know. So in my letter, I recall trying to be honest and blunt, but apologetic at the same time. It wasn't good enough, so I was forced to try again. So I basically rewrote the letter the same way I had first time and heard nothing back, so I assumed that maybe I had finally endured my punishment. Next thing I know, I overhear my mom reading another progress report about my behavior. Put simply, the note stated that I still wasn't getting it, and that I might have been doing this on purpose because it was all a big game to me. Which by that point it might as well have been. If nobody wanted to listen to me for a second, then I wouldn't listen either. I think it wasn't until around 11th grade in high school when I finally started having faith that people might take me seriously and talk to me like a person instead of a child. Stemming from that, a few years later while in college is when I started to realize just how subjective reality is. Deep thought for this thread, eh? Lol
There was also one more incident I clearly remember where I managed to avoid trouble, this time in fourth grade. One of the kids in the special needs class had some severe learning disabilities, and while he was 3 months older than me, he still struggled to add single-digit numbers. Because it was obvious that he was at a disadvantage, I didn't laugh at him, but almost did when he started blaming his eraser for giving him the wrong answers. I can't help but laugh at a random comment like that, even today at the age of 24. Not because I think the person is stupid, but the words I hear.. alone are what trigger a giggle. So yeah. Some things never change
Make more of less, that way you won't make less of more!