So last week I wrote about "the bully" at my gym's Kid's Club who has been calling Jackson names - specifically, baby. Up until that point I had never seen the bully. I just envisioned some tough seven year old with a tattoo on his bicep and a scar above his left eye. You know the type. Well, today. I met. The bully.
I took the boys into the classroom and got them all set up with their snacks. It makes it easier on Holden if I leave while he is eating something yummy so he doesn't notice me leaving. I'm settling them in and an adorable blond cherub-like toddler toddles over and stands right next to Jackson. He looks to be about two years old. He has a pacifier in his mouth and a beat up stuffed bunny in his arms. Jackson turns to me and exclaims:
"That's him! That's the boy who calls me a baby!"
I about tripped over my own two feet. This sweet, harmless little guy, about half Jackson's size, is the bully? Seriously? I try to control my laughter but it is a little hard. I explain to Jackson that this boy is a little boy. Much smaller than he is. And he's just now learning to talk and express himself. If he calls him a baby he's just practicing his words. I tell Jackson he can still walk away if the little boy calls him a baby. But this kid is not going to hurt him. He just wants to be his friend, I tell him.
I leave the boys snacking and walk out the exit. I'm chuckling to myself. I stop to explain to one of the care providers why I'm laughing. She looks over in the direction of the boys and says:
"Oh yes, Charlie. He's two. He calls everyone a baby. He's harmless."
I continue laughing throughout much of my yoga class. I also find myself much more into my workout knowing my son is not going to be beat up by some tough kid. But he might have a two year old who follows him around in admiration, and every now again exclaims "baby!" whenever the feeling inspires him.
Looks like I can save my bully worries for another day.