well, just because. I remember reading an article about kids who, for no apparent reason are actively disliked. The article described a situation where a note was passed from child to child around the classroom, saying ‘Everyone who hates Tom sign here.’ As the note made its way to Tom, every child in the class signed. Tom didn’t just have no friends, he was actively loathed. Most kids are liked by at least one or two other kids in their class and socioeconomic or racial groupings bear no relation to popularity, poking the ‘Who’s got the best trainers?’ argument in the eye good and proper. Neglected kids don’t show up on anyone’s radar and their It never fails to amaze me how much everyday life gets in the way. Are we too busy/not busy enough at work? Have we defrosted the chicken for dinner? Organized the service for the car? The list of drivel we occupy ourselves with in the name of Being An Adult is endless. Aren’t we boring? (Or is it just me?) Grown Up Life really does its best to get in the way of fun and adventure but every so often you are lucky enough to get a moment where your world focuses and zooms in and you are shown a truly important lesson. This happened to me this week and I have three little kids to thank for it.

According to the OED, a friend is “a person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically one exclusive of family relations.” I happen to think that definition is a bit sparse and I think that my Teenager, her mates The Blonde and The Brunette would agree, although this is a guess as they probably wouldn’t let me into Teenager room long enough to find out, busy as they were this week, twittering and muttering behind her (firmly) closed door. Yes, school’s out for the Easter holidays and, as every parent knows, with holidays come mates, sleepovers and all the to-ing and fro-ing of kids with hectic social schedules, even if they are eight years old and ‘social life’ means hanging out with their bezzie and giggling at nothing in particular for hours on end.

Teenager had to deal with a potentially tricky situation this week. A friend of Busy Husband introduced his daughter (The Brunette) to Teenager last year while on a brief visit to Cyprus and they got on well. FoBH and daughter returned to the UK and, after a few overexcited emails and rambling, multicolored letters, the girls’ friendship fizzled out. Then we got the call that The Brunette was back: the obligatory sleepover was hastily organized and Busy Husband and I waited with baited breath – would they still get on? Well, The Brunette was barely out of the car before the giggling began and off they went, deliriously happy in a fog of lip gloss and badly woven friendship bracelets. Busy Husband and I marveled at the easy, unselfconscious joy that is friendship between kids (we’re a cynical pair, us two). It really was a unique occasion, watching two kids do what kids do best, being left alone to get on with each other. No questions, no agenda, no competition.

It’s every parent’s nightmare, isn’t it, bullying, or having The Kid With No Friends. There isn’t a parent alive who doesn’t silently cry with relief to know that their kid is never going to be the one picked last for the team or left out because, well, just because. I remember reading an article about kids who, for no apparent reason are actively disliked. The article described a situation where a note was passed from child to child around the classroom, saying ‘Everyone who hates Tom sign here.’ As the note made its way to Tom, every child in the class signed. Tom didn’t just have no friends, he was actively loathed. Most kids are liked by at least one or two other kids in their class and socioeconomic or racial groupings bear no relation to popularity, poking the ‘Who’s got the best trainers?’ argument in the eye good and proper. Neglected kids don’t show up on anyone’s radar and their

ith whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically one exclusive of family relations.” I happen to think that definition is a bit sparse and I think that my Teenager, her mates The Blonde and The Brunette would agree, although this is a guess as they probably wouldn’t let me into Teenager room long enough to find out, busy as they were this week, twittering and muttering behind her (firmly) closed door. Yes, school’s out for the Easter holidays and, as every parent knows, with holidays come mates, sleepovers and all the to-ing and fro-ing of kids with hectic social schedules, even if they are eight years old and ‘social life’ means hanging out with their bezzie and giggling at nothing in particular for hours on end.

Teenager had to deal with a potentially tricky situation this week. A friend of Busy Husband introduced his daughter (The Brunette) to Teenager last year while on a brief visit to Cyprus and they got on well. FoBH and daughter returned to the UK and, after a few overexcited emails and rambling, multicolored letters, the girls’ friendship fizzled out. Then we got the call that The Brunette was back: the obligatory sleepover was hastily organized and Busy Husband and I waited with baited breath – would they still get on? Well, The Brunette was barely out of the car before the giggling began and off they went, deliriously happy in a fog of lip gloss and badly woven friendship bracelets. Busy Husband and I marveled at the easy, unselfconscious joy that is friendship between kids (we’re a cynical pair, us two). It really was a unique occasion, watching two kids do what kids do best, being left alone to get on with each other. No questions, no agenda, no competition.

It’s every parent’s nightmare, isn’t it, bullying, or having The Kid With No Friends. There isn’t a parent alive who doesn’t silently cry with relief to know that their kid is never going to be the one picked last for the team or left out because, well, just because. I remember reading an article about kids who, for no apparent reason are actively disliked. The article described a situation where a note was passed from child to child around the classroom, saying ‘Everyone who hates Tom sign here.’ As the note made its way to Tom, every child in the class signed. Tom didn’t just have no friends, he was actively loathed. Most kids are liked by at least one or two other kids in their class and socioeconomic or racial groupings bear no relation to popularity, poking the ‘Who’s got the best trainers?’ argument in the eye good and proper. Neglected kids don’t show up on anyone’s radar and their

with their bezzie and giggling at nothing in particular for hours on end.

Teenager had to deal with a potentially tricky situation this week. A friend of Busy Husband introduced his daughter (The Brunette) to Teenager last year while on a brief visit to Cyprus and they got on well. FoBH and daughter returned to the UK and, after a few overexcited emails and rambling, multicolored letters, the girls’ friendship fizzled out. Then we got the call that The Brunette was back: the obligatory sleepover was hastily organized and Busy Husband and I waited with baited breath – would they still get on? Well, The Brunette was barely out of the car before the giggling began and off they went, deliriously happy in a fog of lip gloss and badly woven friendship bracelets. Busy Husband and I marveled at the easy, unselfconscious joy that is friendship between kids (we’re a cynical pair, us two). It really was a unique occasion, watching two kids do what kids do best, being left alone to get on with each other. No questions, no agenda, no competition.

It’s every parent’s nightmare, isn’t it, bullying, or having The Kid With No Friends. There isn’t a parent alive who doesn’t silently cry with relief to know that their kid is never going to be the one picked last for the team or left out because, well, just because. I remember reading an article about kids who, for no apparent reason are actively disliked. The article described a situation where a note was passed from child to child around the classroom, saying ‘Everyone who hates Tom sign here.’ As the note made its way to Tom, every child in the class signed. Tom didn’t just have no friends, he was actively loathed. Most kids are liked by at least one or two other kids in their class and socioeconomic or racial groupings bear no relation to popularity, poking the ‘Who’s got the best trainers?’ argument in the eye good and proper. Neglected kids don’t show up on anyone’s radar and their

re the giggling began and off they went, deliriously happy in a fog of lip gloss and badly woven friendship bracelets. Busy Husband and I marveled at the easy, unselfconscious joy that is friendship between kids (we’re a cynical pair, us two). It really was a unique occasion, watching two kids do what kids do best, being left alone to get on with each other. No questions, no agenda, no competition.

It’s every parent’s nightmare, isn’t it, bullying, or having The Kid With No Friends. There isn’t a parent alive who doesn’t silently cry with relief to know that their kid is never going to be the one picked last for the team or left out because, well, just because. I remember reading an article about kids who, for no apparent reason are actively disliked. The article described a situation where a note was passed from child to child around the classroom, saying ‘Everyone who hates Tom sign here.’ As the note made its way to Tom, every child in the class signed. Tom didn’t just have no friends, he was actively loathed. Most kids are liked by at least one or two other kids in their class and socioeconomic or racial groupings bear no relation to popularity, poking the ‘Who’s got the best trainers?’ argument in the eye good and proper. Neglected kids don’t show up on anyone’s radar and their

well, just because. I remember reading an article about kids who, for no apparent reason are actively disliked. The article described a situation where a note was passed from child to child around the classroom, saying ‘Everyone who hates Tom sign here.’ As the note made its way to Tom, every child in the class signed. Tom didn’t just have no friends, he was actively loathed. Most kids are liked by at least one or two other kids in their class and socioeconomic or racial groupings bear no relation to popularity, poking the ‘Who’s got the best trainers?’ argument in the eye good and proper. Neglected kids don’t show up on anyone’s radar and their lack of popularity isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s the actively rejected kids that are cause for concern. Not only are they missing out on important learning experiences, they are missing out on fun. It goes without saying that, the older the rejected child, the more serious the potential outcomes.

I look back on my schooldays and remember the mindless and relentless emotional bullying that went on towards certain kids who seemed to just take it. One girl in particular stands out: the size of her teeth were a particular focus, as well as her clothes, her voice, in fact, everything about her was up for grabs. I remember vividly the unspoken peer pressure and now, as a cringing parent, see how totally random it was that we picked on her instead of anyone else. It’s no comfort at all to see that so much of our kids’ interaction is based on the luck of the draw, a horrid Darwinian lottery.

Teenager social skills were put to the test once more later in the week as The Brunette came face to face with Teenager best friend, The Blonde. Busy Husband and I watched, this time through our fingers, the “Jaws” theme in our ears, expecting the two opponents to start circling one another or at least have a good old scrap about who was leaving who out but, once again, the kids bewildered and delighted us by playing and screeching happily. Yes, yes, I know a clich? is a clich? is a clich? but in a place like Cyprus, where we are all shoved together like ants under a microscope, where true friends are few and far between and where people can be hard and unforgiving judgmental (I told you we were cynical), it was so good to see that innocence can prevail. Girls, I salute you.