The life of a child is tough, because…

… if you’re the youngest among your buddies, the bigger ones bully you

… if you have a toy/cycle/scooter that no one else has, everyone will want a turn, and you almost never get to play with it

… if you’re the only girl in a boys’ world, they make sure you feel isolated and ignored

… if you’re a girl and the youngest of the lot, they make fun of you saying “you’re a baby” and “you’re a girl” till you cry

… if you’re the bully of the group, the others don’t like you

… if, by some unlucky chance, you manage to get into a debate with one of the ‘big’ boys, you lose without a fight, naturally, because for one thing, your frightened arguments are feeble and unimpressive, for another, Mothers sympathetically disbelieve everything you say and side with the angelic-faced ten-year-olds

… if you’re the leader who decides who plays with who, you invite the wrath of Mothers whose children you don’t play with

… if you’re one among a group of three, the two others always side against you and make you feel left out

… when you want to play, Mother calls you to sleep

… when you want to sleep, Mother says it’s time for school

… when you want to do colouring, Mother says it’s time for homework

… when you want snacks, Mother says it’s time for dinner

…