By Pingting / May 22, 2026
昨天接到娃儿时，
我就觉得不对劲。
没有以前那样放开的开心。
跟老师道谢道别后，
我们就离开了。
我问：
“今天谁赢了？”
没想到娃儿很严肃地来了一句：
“把你的电话给我，
我要打给 FBI 了！”
我心想：
这下有得哄了。
这事可不是随便生气安慰几句就能没事的。
接着，
他打开手机，
问我：
“FBI 电话多少？”
这中间，
本来我要去拿吃的。
看他这么气疯，
也不敢去拿了。
娃儿一边哭，
一边说：
“这也实在太不公平了！
我们蓝队才六个人！”
这时，
我先找了个位置坐下来，
听他好好说。
然后抱抱他，
给他一些安慰的话：
“你已经尽力了，
又不是你的错！”
结果娃儿越哭越停不下来。
见我一直没告诉他 FBI 的号码后，
他直接打开手机笔记，
手写下了：
“FBI open up”
几个字。
……
我说：
“不开心的事别想了，
我们去做些开心的事。
你午餐吃麦当劳吗？
肯德基？
Chick-fil-A？
越南面？
还是 Wawa？
还是 Publix？”
娃儿：
“都不吃！
我只要回家。”
我说：
“我下午还有个预约，
如果回去了，
我们就不想出来了。”
结果娃儿一边哭一边说：
“麦当劳吧！”
我：
“那我要吃冰淇淋！”
娃儿：
“我们去有冰淇淋那家麦当劳！
我们打包回家吃！”
我知道，
娃儿是不想让别人看到伤心难过的自己。
在途中，
他还在纠结蓝队输掉的事情。
我说：
“这是团队的 work，
又不是你一个人能控制的。”
娃儿：
“他们太不公平了！总共七项活动，我蓝队都赢了五项了，怎么还是输？”
听到娃儿这么说，
才知道原来蓝队有很多小组，
白队也有很多小组。
而他所在的小组其实是赢的，
但架不住其他蓝队输了。
这下实在是无能为力的感觉。
娃儿继续说：
“我们全班才六个是蓝队，
其他都是白队！
他们还连输了十四年了！”
我：
“十四年？
你怎么知道？”
娃儿：
“同学说的！”
我心想：
又一个爱夸张的孩子。
我：
“那他在什么队？”
娃儿：
“他在蓝队！”
……
原来一个班二十一个学生，
十五人赢了，
他是输的六人中的其中一个。
难怪那么不开心。
原来我接他之前，
他是忍着不哭的。
看到我后，
委屈到实在绷不住了。
娃儿：
“我已经输了三次了，
明年要是再输的话，
就没机会了！”
娃儿继续吐槽：
“今天是我长这么大最坏的一天！
我明年不跟白队的人说话了！
我明年也不来这个学校上学了！
这个游戏是谁发明的！
我要把它给禁止掉！”
……
我：
“这样吧，
你明年一开学，
就跟你的老师提这件事，
让她给你换个队。
或者给校长写封信，
告诉她你的想法！”
娃儿：
“今天白队赢了后，
那大叫的声音，
都把我的耳朵给弄痛了！”
我：
“真的是，
实在太不应该了！”
只能一边接着娃儿的话。
“真不敢相信这是我二年级的最后一天！”
……
车开到麦当劳后，
已经是十五分钟后的事了。
娃儿的情绪这才慢慢安静下来。
看他一边吃着白色的香草冰淇淋，
一边吐槽：
“我最不喜欢白色了！
所有白色的东西我都不喜欢！”
我心里偷偷笑着。
又问：
“妈妈，
为什么有税这个东西的存在？”
我顿时震惊。
这前一秒还在找白队算账啊。
于是我认真解释了一下：
“税这个东西，
是国家用来帮助人们更好地运营这个国家。
比如建马路，
我们去图书馆借书就是免费的，
还有建公园，
给政府部门的工作人员发工资什么的！”
娃儿：
“比如给 FBI 发工资！”
我：
“是的！”
心想：
这推理又有道理了。
……
吃完后，
我问：
“你要不要在这里玩一会儿？”
娃儿：
“好！”
在麦当劳玩的时候，
还认识了两三个孩子。
他们还直接把麦当劳的玩具当导弹丢。
娃儿说：
“FBI open up！”
所有的孩子，
全把玩具当导弹。
一边的家长，
也开始跟我说同样的话：
“这玩具不是这么玩的。
什么时候变成导弹了？”
……
就这样，
看着娃儿从：
“最坏的一天”
慢慢变成了：
“最好的一天”。
婷妈的亲子日常 创作于 2026.05.23
原创发布： tingtingma.com
写给孩子，也写给正在成长的大人。
未经授权，请勿转载。
《Tingma’s Parenting Diary｜267. From the Worst Day to the Best Day》
By Pingting / May 22, 2026
Yesterday when I picked my son up,
I immediately felt something was off.
He didn’t have his usual carefree happiness.
After thanking his teacher and saying goodbye,
we left.
I asked:
“Who won today?”
To my surprise,
he looked very serious and said:
“Give me your phone.
I’m calling the FBI!”
At that moment, I thought:
“Oh no.
This is going to take some real comforting.”
This clearly wasn’t something that would disappear after just a few simple comforting words.
Then,
he pulled out his phone and asked me:
“What’s the FBI’s phone number?”
Meanwhile,
I had originally planned to grab some food first.
But seeing how furious he was,
I didn’t even dare leave to get it.
While crying,
he said:
“This is SO unfair!
There were only six people on the Blue Team!”
At that point,
I found a nearby place for us to sit down.
I listened carefully to everything he wanted to say.
Then I hugged him
and comforted him:
“You already did your best.
It wasn’t your fault.”
But he kept crying harder and harder.
After noticing that I still wasn’t giving him the FBI’s number,
he directly opened the Notes app on his phone
and typed:
“FBI open up.”
…
I said:
“Let’s stop thinking about unhappy things.
Let’s go do something fun instead.
What do you want for lunch?
McDonald’s?
KFC?
Chick-fil-A?
Pho?
Wawa?
Or Publix?”
My son replied:
“I don’t want any of those!
I just want to go home!”
I said:
“But I still have an appointment later.
If we go home now,
we probably won’t want to come back out again.”
So while still crying, he finally said:
“…McDonald’s.”
I replied:
“Then I want ice cream!”
My son immediately said:
“Let’s go to the McDonald’s that has ice cream!
We’ll take it home!”
I knew
he didn’t want other people seeing him sad and upset.
On the way there,
he was still obsessing over the Blue Team losing.
I said:
“This was teamwork.
It’s not something you alone could control.”
My son replied:
“It’s SO unfair!
Out of seven activities, my Blue Team won five of them! So how did we still lose?!”
After hearing that,
I finally realized there were actually multiple Blue Team groups
and multiple White Team groups.
His own group had actually won,
but the other Blue groups lost.
At that point,
it really was just one of those helpless situations.
Then he continued:
“There were only six Blue Team people in our whole class!
Everyone else was White Team!
And Blue Team has lost for fourteen years in a row!”
I asked:
“Fourteen years?
How do you know that?”
He replied:
“My classmate told me!”
I thought to myself:
“Another dramatic child.”
So I asked:
“What team is he on?”
My son answered:
“Blue Team.”
…
That’s when I realized:
there were twenty-one students in the class.
Fifteen students won,
and he was one of the six who lost.
No wonder he was so upset.
Apparently,
before I picked him up,
he had been holding back his tears.
But the moment he saw me,
he just couldn’t hold it in anymore.
My son cried:
“I’ve already lost three times!
If we lose again next year,
then I’ll never get another chance!”
Then he kept ranting:
“This is the WORST day of my entire life!
Next year I’m not talking to anyone on White Team!
I’m not even coming back to this school next year!
Who invented this game?!
I’m going to BAN IT!”
…
I said:
“How about this—
when school starts next year,
you can talk to your teacher about it.
Maybe she can switch your team.
Or you could even write a letter to the principal
and tell her how you feel.”
My son continued:
“When White Team won today,
they screamed so loudly
it hurt my ears!”
I replied:
“Seriously,
that was really not okay.”
So I just kept responding to everything he said.
Then he sighed:
“I can’t believe this was the last day of second grade.”
…
By the time we got to McDonald’s,
about fifteen minutes had passed.
That was when his emotions finally started calming down.
While eating his white vanilla ice cream,
he complained:
“I hate white!
I hate EVERYTHING white!”
I secretly laughed to myself.
Then suddenly he asked:
“Mom,
why does tax even exist?”
I was completely shocked.
Just one second ago,
he was trying to sue White Team in his head.
So I seriously explained:
“Taxes help the country function better.
For example,
they build roads,
libraries are free because of taxes,
parks get built,
and government workers get paid.”
My son immediately replied:
“Like paying the FBI!”
I said:
“Yes!”
And honestly,
his logic kind of made sense again.
…
After we finished eating,
I asked:
“Do you want to play here for a while?”
My son answered:
“Okay!”
While playing at McDonald’s,
he met two or three other kids.
Soon,
they started throwing the McDonald’s toys around like missiles.
My son shouted:
“FBI OPEN UP!”
Then suddenly,
all the kids started treating the toys like missiles.
One of the parents nearby even looked at me and said:
“These toys definitely weren’t designed for this.
How did they suddenly become missiles?”
…
And just like that,
I watched my son slowly go from:
“the worst day of his life”
to:
“the best day of his life.”
Tingma’s Parenting Diary
Written on May 22 2026
Originally published at: tingtingma.com
Written for my child, and for the adults who are still growing.
Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.
Originally written in Chinese by the author.
This English version was translated with the assistance of ChatGPT.