Life Lesson

A car pulled up outside the house.

A small girl threw open the door and hurtled inside.

Her mother, switching off the engine and gathering up her younger daughter and their belongings, closed the door thoughtfully behind her. She looked bewildered. And a little worried.

Upstairs, the little girl lay on her bed sobbing. Her heart-rending cries shook her whole body and created tidal waves on her mattress. What could have broken her little world at just four years old?

Her mother's footsteps on the stairs were slow and mechanical. She had a baby on her hip and another in her belly. She was tired.

The bedroom door was closed. She knocked softly and let herself in.

Depositing the little one on the floor by a pile of soft toys, she sat gently on the edge of the bed and laid a tender hand on her daughter's back to still the weeping.

"What is it pet lamb?" she asked tenderly. "Was it so awful, school? Did you have a terrible time? Didn't you like your teacher? Didn't you make nice, new friends?"

Through juddering intakes of breath, her big new schoolgirl attempted to control herself and speak.

"It's not that," she whimpered.

"What then, darling? What is it?"

Alice sat up on the bed, straightened her uniform, squared her shoulders and looked her mother in the eye. In spite of her apparent composure, her next words were a wail:

"I'm in love and I know he'll never love me!"

School sucks.