Recently B1 came home from preschool complaining about someone pushing and "bumping" him. This kid, "X", was apparently bumping into him in line to wash their hands at snack time. B1 mentioned it every day, which could mean it happened every day or it could mean it happened once and he was ruminating about it for weeks. I know this because it's what I do when I think someone may have done something mean to me.
This situation has been resolved and now B1 tells me X is his friend.
But one morning when I was dropping him off a mom bumped into me and then swung her bag and hit me with it. I spent the whole morning stewing about it and wondering if she did it on purpose and why and who she thought she was and getting really mad about it.
Then I remembered. The entry way is very small and congested. I should be surprised more people don't smash into each other. I highly doubt she did it on purpose and maybe didn't even realize it happened.
But just look at all that time I spent being upset about it. If I was 3, I might have said something to my parents. I might have repeated it for days. And it might all have been nothing.
If I ever needed proof that B1 is my kid, this is it. He not only inherited my facial features, he evidently got some of my neuroses too! Poor guy...I'd better start saving for his therapist now. Guess I need to start teaching him the world isn't against him!
And the really funny part...the mom that bumped into me...was X's mom.
No comments:
Post a Comment