One step back...

Today I went to collect Connah from childcare, and he was sleeping. This is pretty unusual... he doesn't take a nap in the middle of the day often. So I spoke to his teachers, who told me that he had a great morning, but had been upset most of the afternoon. They didn't know why.

I woke him up to take him home, and when he saw me, he burst into tears and clung to me like a vine.
Hmmmm, something happened. But the teachers didn't see anything, and trying to get information out of a distraught Connah is fricken useless.

So I took him outside and started asking questions: "Did you hurt yourself?" "Did you want to go home?" "Did you get hungry / thirsty / need to go to the bathroom / get scared?" Each time he answered with a quiet "no". Until I asked: "Was your friend there today?"

"Yes, hick/sob".

"What happened with your friend Connah?"

"He said: "NO, I don't want to be your friend!" Sob/sniff dissolve into tears."

Oh Connah, I wanted to punch your friend in the face.

I know it's not something that I should say - that I wanted to punch a small child in the face. And I would never do it in reality, but I'm striving for honesty here, and honestly, I wanted him to hurt.
It didn't matter that he was only being a child, that it was just something to say, and he'll probably have forgotten all about it by Tuesday; Connah believes that he has lost his only friend. It was a gut instinct for me to protect. (Apparently, in this case my guts can't distinguish between protection and vengeance... it just wants to react.)

If it had been said to any other child, it would have been met with angry retaliation ("Well, my dad will beat up your dad!"...) Or nonchalance, ("Doesn't matter... I've got HEAPS of friends.... and you can't come to my birthday party!") But it was said to Connah, who took him at his word. and was crushed by it.

And just because I would never do it in reality, doesn't mean I can't do it here:

*PUNCH*.


xox