I thought I’d have more than a two weeks of EV6 being in school before I had to deal with explaining bullies to her.
I also didn’t expect that bully would be a very pushy two-year old, but at this point nothing about our experiences in New Zealand surprises me.
On one of the first days I picked EV6 up from her new school, I saw a toddler built like a fireplug who was really enthusiastic about grabbing and pushing. He tried to grab a book from EV repeatedly, and when she eventually managed to dismiss him he redirected his attentions to a tiny, reedy toddler in the the corner of the room.
He gave the tinier toddle one push. Two pushes. A third push. At first I thought the two kids were playing, but then I saw tears welling up in the eyes of the reedy little one and before I could move one of the teachers sprung into action and scooped him out of the corner while gentle admonishing the pushy sparkplug.
This pushy little spark plug was George*, and to hear her tell it EV6’s days are chiefly concerned with avoiding his pushes.
*His name isn’t actually George, but I now asked EV6 no less than four times if that was his name only to have her correct me, so we’re just going with it since that’s what my brain is convinced to be true.
I asked about EV6 about her day as we were driving home the next day, and she replied, “Oh, I spent a lot of it sitting in a tree.”
“Oh,” I replied, “were you having fun climbing trees with your friends?”
“No, it was that George kept pushing me and I climbed the tree because he wouldn’t stop.”
Let me tell you: I was seeing way more red in that moment than I was seeing the road. I was seething with parental rage. [Read more…] about pushy little George