The Geek and the Cool Kids

This past Friday when I picked #3 up from school, he had a little smile on his face.

“What’s funny?” I asked him.

“I’m not cool.” He told me.

“I think you’re cool.” I answered my coolest child.  (If he’s not cool there’s no hope for the rest of us.)

He rolled his eyes.  “You’re my mom.  You have to think I’m cool.  I’m not though. The cool kids told me.”

I glanced in his direction to see how he felt about that.  Stupid kids.  How could they miss how wonderful he is?

“I hung out with them for the last two days so that I could be cool, too.  Today at recess they told me I was a geek so I can’t hang out with them any more.”

“Why do they think you’re a geek?” I asked already dreading the answer.

“I have weird white spots on my face that look like inside out freckles.  That makes me a geek.  I don’t care though, because I like them.  They make my face look different from everyone else’s face.”

“Huh” was my witty reply.

“It’s okay with me though, because after two days I know that what makes them cool is that they’re bored, and bored is kind of boring.  I tried to get them to play something, but they would only huff at me.  Then I told them that I was going to play anyway and they said ‘Whatever.’  I’d rather be a geek who plays stuff than a cool kid who stands around being bored.  Being a geek is more fun.”

He’s so much smarter than I ever was.