There's a kid I run into all the time around the town I'm from, and I'm pretty sure if you look up "adorable" or "precocious" or just "golly gee whiz huzzah," you'd see his face.
He's about eight-years-old. Very friendly. Very talkative. Very bright for his age.
Everyone who knows him likes him.
...Except me.
For some reason, I loathe this child.
I don't know why. I feel awful about it. Every time I see him, there's a part of me that says, Ugh, and then another part of me says, Stop it! You're awful! and then the first part responds with, Please, he's insufferable.
And on and on and on, until finally, the nice part gives up and leaves to go help the homeless and the evil part stays sitting on my shoulder casting scornful glances at the adorable little kid.
Recently, I posted something on Facebook scolding critics of the movie Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close for writing that they wanted to throttle the young actor in the movie. I said it was creepy and downright inappropriate for them to say something like that.
And yet secretly, I know how they felt.
I liked the young actor in that movie, so it's not that I hate all smart, talkative children--I just hate this smart, talkative child.
I feel the irresistible urge to--and yes, I realize how bad this sounds--bully him.
Having never been a bully in school (quite the opposite in fact) I can't imagine where this compulsion is coming from.
Part of me wonders if it might be tough love?
If there's a part of me that wants to save this kid from years of torment.
But then I think to myself, what am I thinking?
(Which is a thought so paradoxical, I often have to sit down after I think it.)
Am I really feeling the urge to stop a kid from being intelligent and outgoing and ugh he does this stupid thing where he--
Never mind.
I wonder if this will change as he grows up, or if he's destined to be one of those people who rubs everyone the wrong way for absolutely no discernible reason. If that's the case, I feel terrible for him, and yet it would make me feel better, because then I'm not just some ogre who hates a small child.
It makes me want to sit down with my brain and say--So, you don't find Ann Coulter all that infuriating but an eight-year-old boy inspires unbridled rage in you?
Who knows why we're wired to like the people we like and dislike the people we dislike?
All I know is that I hope one day I'll get over my hatred of the kid. And if that can't happen, I hope that one day he gives me a reason to hate him.
Maybe then I won't feel so bad.
He's about eight-years-old. Very friendly. Very talkative. Very bright for his age.
Everyone who knows him likes him.
...Except me.
For some reason, I loathe this child.
I don't know why. I feel awful about it. Every time I see him, there's a part of me that says, Ugh, and then another part of me says, Stop it! You're awful! and then the first part responds with, Please, he's insufferable.
And on and on and on, until finally, the nice part gives up and leaves to go help the homeless and the evil part stays sitting on my shoulder casting scornful glances at the adorable little kid.
Recently, I posted something on Facebook scolding critics of the movie Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close for writing that they wanted to throttle the young actor in the movie. I said it was creepy and downright inappropriate for them to say something like that.
And yet secretly, I know how they felt.
I liked the young actor in that movie, so it's not that I hate all smart, talkative children--I just hate this smart, talkative child.
I feel the irresistible urge to--and yes, I realize how bad this sounds--bully him.
Having never been a bully in school (quite the opposite in fact) I can't imagine where this compulsion is coming from.
Part of me wonders if it might be tough love?
If there's a part of me that wants to save this kid from years of torment.
But then I think to myself, what am I thinking?
(Which is a thought so paradoxical, I often have to sit down after I think it.)
Am I really feeling the urge to stop a kid from being intelligent and outgoing and ugh he does this stupid thing where he--
Never mind.
I wonder if this will change as he grows up, or if he's destined to be one of those people who rubs everyone the wrong way for absolutely no discernible reason. If that's the case, I feel terrible for him, and yet it would make me feel better, because then I'm not just some ogre who hates a small child.
It makes me want to sit down with my brain and say--So, you don't find Ann Coulter all that infuriating but an eight-year-old boy inspires unbridled rage in you?
Who knows why we're wired to like the people we like and dislike the people we dislike?
All I know is that I hope one day I'll get over my hatred of the kid. And if that can't happen, I hope that one day he gives me a reason to hate him.
Maybe then I won't feel so bad.
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