I don’t know if you’ve ever spent a great deal of time around kids who aren’t yours, but the same thing seems to happen every time. They start out sweet and kind and flattering… then they get confused. The kids start to believe that you’re one of the family and so they believe it’s ok to abuse you and misuse you any way they want. Since I baby sit the twins everyday and have for the past two summers, and since I’ve known them for three years they have begun to think of me as family. Part of me loves that. The other part of me is busy nursing my bruised leg (from when Omar thought I was a jungle gym and accidentally kicked me doing a somersault off my body) and ego. And the hits to my ego have been especially hard lately.
To prove my case, here’s a little conversation we had today:
Iman said, “Ms. Crystal? There’s something wrong with my eye!”
“Oh No! We should have my friend Sarah look at it. She’s a doctor. An EYE doctor.” I replied.
“Wow. We should introduce her to my Mom and Dad” (their parents are both doctors).
I said, “That’s a good idea, we could introduce Sarah to your parents and we should introduce her husband Justin to them too, because he’s also a doctor.”
“How old is your friend, Ms. Crystal? 40?”
“No, Iman. She’s my age.”
“Oh, I know why she’s a doctor and you’re not.” Iman said.
“You do? Why?”
Iman said, “Because she’s smarter than you. She’s your age and she’s already got a husband so she must be A LOT smarter than you are.”
And there you have it. Not only am I not a doctor, I’m also not married. And apparently, stupid.
I know she’s 7, and her reasoning may not be totally based in logic, but I’m not going to lie to you: part of me thinks she might be on to something.