It's the little moments that add up.
Mr B: (thoughtfully, a little sad) J is not my best friend anymore.
Mr B: He teases people. That's not right.
Mr B: (firmly) So he's not my friend.
Me: (sympathetically) Mm.
Mr B: I try to stop him, but he doesn't. He wants to do what he wants to do. And I don't... I want to do what I think is right.
Me: Brave people try to help others do what's right, and they do what's right themselves. (Dang, higlighted talent instead of skill. Why is it so hard to remember that in the middle of a conversation?)
Mr B: (quietly, as if to himself) Yeah.
Me: I'm proud of you for choosing what's right for you. (In retrospect, I could have started with 'you sound proud of yourself for choosing what's right for you' and then added 'I am, too'... ah, well. I'm still a work in progress.)
Mr B: (change of tone, still thoughtful, but enthusiastically) Can we have something special for dinner tonight?
Good use of True (defined here).
I'm not sure if he sensed the opportunity to ask for a treat at the end there, or he just knows all my buttons, including the good ones, or if that was a totally random segue like he usually uses to signal 'done' on any of these self-discovery conversations (a bit of each, maybe)... but yeah, I said we could get something. We've had meatballs two nights in a row.
I got the sense that he was talking to himself but with an audience - he wasn't watching me, just sitting in the office chair spinning back and forth, looking thoughtful while I stitched his mitten back onto the mitten-string. He has a tendency to go big-eyed and hopeful if he's trying the innocent ploy routine.
Eh, whatever. It is what it is. We're still going to swing by the grocery store on the way back from the meet-the-teacher event at school this afternoon.