I don't much care for this boy in Scarlett's class. Yes, I realize that it's wrong to not like a 3.5 year old and I should direct my dissatisfaction at his parents. But I don't like him. Nor his parents much.
Let's call him Gus.
A couple of weeks ago when I dropped Scarlett off at school, Gus was arriving too. He immediately started playing with imaginary guns and kicking all the lunch boxes on the cart. His mom was too busy talking to me to tell him to stop. Scarlett looked at me with that knowing look of hers. I praised her for not kicking the lunch boxes. He stopped. His mom kept talking.
Whatever. No biggie.
But this morning, Andy decided that he does not like this kid. And tonight, I decided that neither do I.
This morning on the way to school, Scarlett said, "Mommy, Gus is a boy in my class. My pants are my class. So Gus is in my pants."
I happen to think this announcement was fabulous. And I am choosing to focus on her logic skills. Some form of early mathematical reasoning deduction logic.
But her Daddy finds no humor in this. And he blames it entirely on Gus. I think he is overreacting, just a pinch.
Tonight, Scarlett says, "Gus doesn't think I'm a good kid. Gabby thinks I'm a good kid, but Gus doesn't. So he wants to kill me."
Ok, now that Gus character has gone and done it.
And yes, turns out she knows what that means. That word should never have come out of my sweet little one's mouth.
I think I'm gonna go with my imaginary guns and go kick their house down while Gus's mom chats away.