The Hippie is eight today! I can't believe how fast time flies.
She was so sweet and she's still such a doll.
The Hippie (left) and The Scribe (who looks more like a hippie here on the right)
So, in honor of her birthday, I thought I'd repost one of my favorite stories. Here goes . . .
How to Beat a Bully
I witnessed something and it makes me so mad!
When I drove to school, to get The Scribe and The Hippie, I knew something was very wrong.
They walked in nervous steps and seemed to forget the place we normally meet. They walked faster and faster, looking behind them until I realized three girls imitated their every move. One of the girls was big and tall; she looked at least a couple grades older than The Scribe. I thought the other two girls were in The Scribe's class.
So, I did what any good mother would do. I rolled down my windows and stalked them quietly. That's when I heard the biggest girl yell at my kids. "You sure are ugly!" She elbowed her cronies before snorting up a storm. As they laughed, I wanted to jump out of my car and pummel that kid. But I gripped the steering wheel instead. I wanted to see what my girls would do.
"Can't you hear us?" one of the girls from The Scribe's class hollered. "We said you're ugly!"
That's when The Scribe and The Hippie turned around. They were so busy, they still didn't notice I was following them. The Hippie looked at the girls; she seemed absolutely unperturbed. She had on a darling twirl dress, pigtails and two bows in her hair.
The Scribe looked down at her and said, "Don't move. I've got this."
But The Hippie refused to obey her sister. She looked up at those kids, one of which was probably four grades above her and said, "That's too bad you think we're ugly because I think you're beautiful."
I watched their resolve crumble. They cracked a smile at The Hippie and the big bully said, "You know, you're all right. Maybe you can join our gang someday, but the thing is . . . we weren't calling you ugly anyway. We were calling your sister ugly."
I held my breath as I watched the whole thing unfold. This was The Scribe's time to shine. Maybe she'd take The Hippie's brilliant lead and hand out a truthful compliment. I knew she thought about it. I saw it in her beautiful green eyes, but the thing is, The Scribe is a spitfire. She doesn't take crap from anyone and she refuses to say something just to say it.
The Scribe glared at them, and as her eyes looked across the ground, she grinned wider than the Nile. "You think I'm ugly? Everyone can have their own opinion, but I know something for a fact and it's that you're bullies. You're scared bullies!"
This didn't sound like it was headed to a Heavenly place. The big girl started balling her fist. Her stance changed to a fighting stance. I wanted to jump from the car. "We're not scared of anything . . . especially ugly . . . little . . . girls!" the big kid said.
That made The Scribe madder than a hatter. I knew it would since they'd just taken measurements last week and she's the second shortest kid in her class. She hates being short! Her face paled with anger and that's when The Scribe bent down and picked up a worm.
"Fine, if you're so tough!" She waved the worm next to the big girl's face and the bully jerked back in fear. My oldest daughter's eyes lit with excitement. Then she pushed the worm near all of the bullies' faces. I couldn't believe my eyes. She'd gone from the victim to the victor.
You wouldn't believe how funny that looked. Now to understand, you need to realize how gorgeous The Scribe is. I know every parent says this about their kids, but when we lived in Santa Monica, a lady paid The Scribe one hundred dollars for one picture of her. She's been on greeting cards and other things. She's really a pretty kid and it just cracks me up that she's such a tomboy.
"If you're so tough, and you want to bully me, then lick it! Show me you're brave enough to lick this worm," The Scribe said.
"Get it out of my face," one girl shrieked.
"You're so weird. This is why we hate you," her friend said.
All three of them turned to run, but before they left completely, the big girl said, "This isn't over, Shorty. You're so weird. You'll never fit in here."
As they turned, The Scribe threw the worm and it landed in the back of the big girl's hair. I covered my mouth and gasped; that bully still had no idea the worm wriggled in her hair!
My girls laughed really hard. "What are you going to do about them tomorrow?" The Hippie asked.
"Oh, leave that to me." The Scribe chuckled. "I have a great idea."
They started walking back to our designated pick-up spot and I found it funny they still hadn't spotted me or the car. "Do you really think they're pretty?" The Scribe asked The Hippie. "No one that mean can be pretty."
"God made them too, didn't He?" said The Hippie.
"Yeah, but they're so mean." The Scribe paused. "Do you think I'm ugly?"
The Hippie hugged her sister. "You're beautiful! Don't let them make you sad."
I honked after that, and my girls saw me. I had tears in my eyes because even though they fight, they'll always be there for each other. I love those girls so much.
"How long have you been here?" The Scribe asked.
"Just barely. Why?"
"No reason." The Scribe suddenly grinned as she leaned into the back of the seat.
"What are you smiling about?" I asked.
"Nothing. I'm just happy it rained today. I love worms."
So, I didn't say much to them about bullies or anything else. Maybe I should have. Maybe I should have reprimanded The Scribe for throwing a worm in some kid's hair. But I felt they'd done an all right job of handling the situation and I was proud they hadn't let people walk on them like people walk on me.