Don’t be cruel

I want The Girl to be one of those super nice girls, one of those girls that you can just tell would never say a mean word about anyone. I want her to be that girl that is so nice that she makes you feel bad about yourself because you are, well, less nice. That’s the kind of daughter that I want. I don’t think that’s the kind of daughter I have.

She has started this new thing where every time one of the boys throws a fit and starts crying (yes, my boys still cry at 7 and 8 years old. Does that ever end?) she laughs. It’s not her normal laugh as in, “Oh you just hid your face behind a paper then took it away and it’s hilarious even though I knew where you were all along because I’m not stupid.” It’s more of a shrill Wicked Witch of the West-ish cackle that sounds like she’s truly, from the bottom of her soul, delighting in their plight. So she does that and then follows it up with a new phrase she just learned: He crying! She alternates that laugh and phrase over and over until the boy that is the object of her ridicule gets mad and storms off.

I know that laughing along with her is not helping to create that super nice girl, but I can’t help it. As the third child with two crazy older brothers, I expected her to be laid back and quiet and to just go with the flow. Instead, I got this stubborn, opinionated, bossy girl that showed up and just started running the show. She reminds me of someone I know.

Be careful, Punky. Today you’re stubborn, opinionated, and bossy. Tomorrow you’re domineering and arrogant and you have a god complex, but I’ll still be your best friend.

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