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That girl

There is a girl we see at our local playground with some frequency who is almost the exact same age as Virginia but who she has never engaged. Today Virginia approached her (and her shiny new playground ball) and asked “Do you want to play? … Can I play with you?” and the girl who is of eastern-euro origin of some stripe replied, “No.”

Virginia came over to me and said, “That girl thinks I’m yucky. Why does she think I’m yucky?” I told that that couldn’t possibly be true. (The reason I bring up the eastern euro thing is just because whatever she said that *sounded* like “yucky” was actually a word in her language that meant something more akin to “no”) The playground is ROUGH! Thankfully Virginia quickly found another playmate who was happy to participate in a game of “throw leaves in the air.” And I know my child can probably dish it out like her Ukrainian (I’m guessing) counterpart on her bad days but it does tug at your heartstrings when someone is mean to your child. When I hear Virginia introduce herself to someone and see her ignored, it tears me up. I know these are the types of inevitable lessons that one must learn on the mean green monkey bars…

Post abbreviated due to nausea. It’s always somethin’

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