Empathy is hearsay, your Honor

As much as I knew that my words would come back to haunt me, I didn’t realize how they would be twisted.

P: Mom, why wasn’t Emily at school today?
M: I don’t know.
P: Why not?
M: Honey, I don’t know. I’m not in Emily’s family and I don’t live in their house so I don’t know what they are doing today.

This discussion led him, somehow, months later to:

P: I took Casey’s shoes today at school and ran away with them.
M: Oh. Why?
P: Because someone else took my hat and ran away.
M: And didn’t that make you sad?
P: Yup. Sad and angry and frustrated.
M: So why would you do that to someone else?
P: Because someone did it to me.
M: Well, if taking and running made you feel sad and frustrated, don’t you think Casey felt that, too?
P: Mom, I’m not Casey. I don’t know his feelings. I don’t live in his house. He might feel anything at all and I wouldn’t know.

Okay, counselor. Rest your case and get off of mine.

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8 thoughts on “Empathy is hearsay, your Honor

  1. That’s quite clever. It’s unfortunate that children aren’t born with all of that theory of mind stuff.

  2. He’s blinkin’ brilliant.

    It also means that you are being heard…how are you swinging THAT??? Inquiring minds want desperately to know.

  3. Do we have an attorney in training here? What a riot! It’s funny how they seem not to be listening to your logic, and then, they try to use it on you!

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