But I'm a Creep, I'm a Weirdo...

Daughter and Middle Child were bickering over the ownership of a placemat with a labelled illustration of the insides of the human body.

Okay, it really is Daughter's; bought for her when she wanted to be a doctor (now she wants to be a pediatric dentist). However, Middle Child is the one who is truly interested in all things science now, so he figured it was his because, well, it's a science placemat.

Sure enough, they come to me to settle the dilemma. And though I said that it was given to Daughter that maybe now Middle Child would enjoy it more. Nope. Daughter is taking what's hers.

That started Middle Child off. You can tell when he is really, really upset because tears well in his eyes, though he tries to shield that from everyone, and he starts muttering under his breath. Being right beside him, I could hear him.

"She's just another bossy popular kid. I hate popular people. They think they're better than everyone else."

Ugh. Why isn't there an index page in a parenting handbook that I can reference to at times like this?

Right or wrong, I let him settle down and waited for Daughter to leave the room and I pulled him to my lap. I asked if he thought he was popular. No.

Would he like to be? He didn't care, really.

Did he think things would be better if he were popular? He paused. Then he went on about how he doesn't have a lot of friends - really only two boys that invite him to playdates and one of them started out as Daughter's friend and his fifth wheel status graduated as he grew older. I tried to use that as a point of reference, that as he is getting older, more people recognize him for the interesting and fun kid that he is.

And it may be time to reread the How To Be a Friend book ... again, though it is an excellent, awesome, wonderful book. What can I say? All maternal mammals protect their weakest.

I hope the new school year is a pleasant one for him.