“Mummy, how come every girl I like is mean to me?”
“Did something happen today?”
“Well, this girl I like wanted a number bib. I couldn’t reach them in the cupboard so I stood on a cone and it got squished.”
“She said, “Really, Sean?”, in a mean voice, with her arms crossed.”
“Did you get it for her anyway?”
Looking sheepish, “Yes.”.
What’s endearing about this is that the girl is a head taller than him. Personally, I might have told her she was being rude as I handed her the number bib but I’m not sure that would have made a difference.
How do we deal with mean girls (and boys for that matter)? I never really mastered the art back in the day. And even now, I’m more about modelling empathy than fighting back. In the meantime, I advised him to hang with the nice girls. Hopefully he’ll figure that one out before another cone gets crushed.