So many times you came home from school saying that the kids didn’t want to play with you and that they didn’t like you.
You never told me anything particularly GOOD about the kids at school. And for a while you didn’t really mention other kids at all. Your friends were your teachers and the lunch aides.
My heart broke for you, because whether you choose to believe me or not, I DO know what that feels like.
One day in the fall I asked you how school was and I hear a string of words float out of your mouth that I’ve never heard before:
“Me and my BFF Robert”
My head probably went all “SQUIRREL!” hearing that term.
“You mean Best Friend Forever?”
Too big, so little.
At her birthday today I saw them playing together for the first time.
He was the first one to arrive and the last one to leave. He got her the most thoughtful gift – a domino race track – and when they were saying goodbye at the door they hugged each other and we all heard Robert mumble something and we’re like “What? What cute thing did you just say?”
And he’d said, “I wish we could see each other more often.”
I died. It was the cutest thing in the world.
So now I have to plan a playdate.