“People who make fun of other people are usually insecure themselves,” I said. A little too intensely, and it came off as cheap psychology, but I meant it. “We should probably feel sorry for him because he doesn’t know how to be kind.”
She nodded a little. Then a few days later she said “That boy is calling me baby again.”
“He’s probably insecure,” I said.
“No, he’s not,” she answered. “I know because I asked him if he was, and he said no.”
I laughed. But she wasn’t supposed to ask him. She was supposed to… I don’t know what. Take my advice and see the kid more clearly, understand where he’s coming from, so that she wouldn’t be bugged by him anymore. She’s only six, and that’s a tall order for six.