An addendum to my musings on boys. I was doing my homework in the dining room while Cook got Dutch ready for bed. I could hear that she was sad, and I listened to this:

Dutch: Daddy, Q and J said they were going to tell my mama!
Cook: Oh?
D: Q and J said they were going to tell MY OWN MAMA!
C: What were they going to tell her?
D: They said they were going to tell her... (an ascending wail of misery) that I WAS A BAD GIRL!!! They said I was a BAD GIRL!!!

I cried. MY OWN GIRL! Those little monsters! I feel like storming into the daycare and shaking the snot out of Q and J.

I know that Q and J are actually perfectly nice normal kids. I know that perfectly nice normal kids are mean and weird and scheming and that Dutch will get her little heart bruised and broken many times over (and do some bruising and breaking of her own) before she even reaches the terrible shoals of adolescence. But I really don't know how I'm going to weather it. I can tell her she's the best girl in the world, and that she should just leave Q and J alone when they're cruel, but it doesn't really help. She wants to play with them, and she likes them, and they know it, which is why they're testing their power over her by being cruel. They have a lot of power, like all loved ones do.

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