“That chocolate looks like Daddy. Is that Daddy?”
Today was Valentine’s Day, but don’t even try telling that to Miles, because he will immediately, and emphatically, correct you. In an attempt to, I assume, avoid creating an overtly romantic situation among a bunch of four year olds, the holidays is dubbed “Friendship Day” at school. The sentiment is the same — there’s snacks and a card exchange among the kids (see yesterday’s post) — but promoting friendship sends a stronger message with this age group, and it’s a message Miles really needs to hear.
Last night, as we were preparing the cards for his classmates, there was one child in particular Miles did NOT want to make a card for. “He’s mean sometimes,” Miles argued.
“Well,” I said, looking for a way to appeal to Miles’s better angels, “do you think maybe the reason he’s mean is because he feels left out sometimes?”
“No,” Miles said.
I shrugged. “Well the truth is, it doesn’t matter if he is mean, you still need to make a card for him.”
Eventually we came to a compromise — Miles agreed to make a card for the classmate in question, but it would be 1) the last one he did and 2) we would use one of the cards we messed up (by accidentally putting Miles’s name in the “To” space. It was just a subtle enough dig that Miles was satisfied.
I know there will be people in Miles’s life that he won’t get along with, won’t have any desire to befriend, and may even be enemies, but I certainly don’t want Miles to think that’s the norm. And I’d much rather he default to kindness than his fists!
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 