In usual dramatic fashion, my 5 year old, Zoom, had a talk with me the other day. He told me the kids at school were making fun of him—for not having candy in his lunch. Dot, dot, dot.
Okay, I think that’s the entire blog. Because obviously I was torn with remorse and sadness at the idea of my poor child being ridiculed and tormented because his mother didn’t send candy to school with him. And I could picture their cries and laughter as he pulled out yet another strange healthy lunch.
Nope, I couldn’t picture it. Not for one stinking minute. Besides, I don’t think he’s the type to get made fun of relentlessly, at least at this point. But in fun and fairness, I asked him…
“They make fun of you?”
“Yes, mom.” The face associated with this comment was dreary and full of fake sadness that those awful fake children had instilled in his soul. He put his head down on the table as if the burden was too much.
“What do they say, sweetheart?” And as I imagined, as I knew, as I had predicted… He didn’t know what they said… because he hadn’t gotten that far in his elaborate plan to make me pack him loads of candy for lunch, instead of hard-boiled eggs and organic applesauce. He paused, looked at me carefully and began a sentence that made no sense at all, “the kids said, ‘your mom doesn’t have any candy in your lunch?’”
Awww, that was pathetic. He has a lot to learn about making the world spin in his direction. He might get good grades in school, but this deserves an ‘F’.
“That’s what they said?”
“Well, I don’t know what they said, mom. They just made fun of me.”
Yep, it’s hard to remember the details of really scarring moments in our lives. I understand, especially when they are concocted.
“Well, I think you are the one who will not have cavities, so you are probably the lucky one here, son.”
“But MOMMMMM, they make fun of me!”
And my 8 year old, Mack, chimes in. With accidental wisdom beyond his age, he says, “Zoom, tell those kids that your mom is smarter than theirs because you are way healthier.”
And just like that I gained respect for my 8 year old that basically guaranteed he would be my favorite child that day. I beamed from ear to ear like a child, like a juvenile child whose friends just told her she had the coolest toys. Awww, that was pathetic of me.
And so I told Zoom to tell his friends just that! We got up from the table and I floated through the next hour of my day, thinking I had done something right parenting, just for a moment. Boy, gloating is fun. I wish I could do this more often, but alas… some things are not meant to indulge in.