So that little descent into melodrama has passed.
Scene: picking up Felix after after-school art class
Felix gives me a big hug. Salutations are exchanged.
K: So (sounding ALL excited) who’s your new teacher?
F: Mrs B (sounding ALL excited)
K: Wow – is that good?
F: YEAH (sounding all DERR MUM of course it’s good), she’s SO nice.
K: Oh that’s excellent. (sounding all innocent) So is M or C in your class?
F: NO (sounding FINE) but S is – remember S, from Kindy?
K: OH SURE. (sounding all supportive and it’s no big deal-ish) So you’re cool with M and C not being in your class?
F: Yeah, they’re just in the next room.
A little while later.
F: Mum, I’m SO lucky.
F: Because I’ve got the nicest teacher.
So yes, I am crawling back into my box once more.
And once more trying to learn the lesson of not.buying.in.to. the.emotions my mum puts on situations.
Would I have responded with ONE BAZILLIONTH of the psychotic meltdown I did had I discovered Felix’s class from Felix?