Tuesday, 24 January 2012
'I was called bunny teeth three times today,' she says, not upset, more in a stating a fact kind of way.
Poor girl. She has her mother's teeth. I used to get called Monster Munch teeth, they were so big. But then I got a brace, glasses (and not cool ones, Deidre Barlow/Christopher Biggins style), and skinnier legs, so the teeth teasing was replaced by boys running up to me to put their hands around my ankles whilst running off and calling me Bony Joanie (a character from Garbage Pail Kids, all the rage in 1987, see above. That was me aged 12).
Luckily the 7 year-old thinks that bunnies and rabbits are very cute, so almost takes it as a compliment that she's being told she looks like a rabbit. She's also at the age where she does seem to be able to shrug it all off. The hormones haven't kicked in yet, or the seeking of approval from the opposite sex. In fact right now, boys are deemed rubbish. And not just by me.
Having a brace is at least three years away, so for the next three years she is just going to have to put up with being a bunny. It comes in quite handy around Easter.
And for now, at least, she still believes she's beautiful. She hasn't had that confidence knocked out of her...yet. How sad that you know it'll come. The self doubt, the feelings of ugliness that the teenage years bring are just around the corner. The 'why aren't my boobs as big as Jane Bookers?' years of torment in your room stuffing tissues down your bra. The overwhelming feeling of just wanting to be average, 'normal', not too fat, not too skinny, not too big boobs, not concave chest (yep, you guessed it, that was also what I was called) that takes up pages of your diary, along with a yearning for Gary Bell to notice you...
I keep telling her that all these boys who call her rabbit teeth will be beating her door down for a date in years to come.
She pulls a face. 'Urgh. I told you, I don't like boys.' Quite.
It pulls at the heart strings though, to know your child's being teased. I've just spent the last hour searching for large balls of cotton wool to wrap her up in. Unfortunately, Amazon are out of stock.
NB. I know boys aren't rubbish really, I'm married to a perfectly adequate one, have one as a dog and an older brother...