昨天去接娃儿的时候，他连书包都忘了拿，远远看到我，就直接跑过来了。
一路走回住处，他话很少。
我觉得有点奇怪。
后来才知道，原来他在学校摔了一跤。
我赶紧问：
“痛不痛？老师有没有给你冰敷？”
看了一下他的脚，确实擦破了一点皮，还好没有流血。
他说：
“有。”
停了一下，又补了一句：
“可是其他同学都没有理我，还在那里说我这、说我那，一点都不友好。”
接着越说越委屈。
“他们就是走丢的孩子的态度！”
我愣了一下。
这还是昨天他刚教我的一句英文。
他说，如果有人对自己很不友好，可以回一句：
“What’s with the attitude, lost child?”
大概就是：“你这是什么态度，走丢的孩子？”
我第一次听到这种说法。
以前如果有人欺负我，我可能会直接回一句：“你是没人管的孩子吧？”
相比之下，“走丢的孩子”反而没有那么尖锐，却又带着一点幽默。
我继续安慰他：
“那些孩子本身就是那样的孩子，他们不是因为你的原因，才变成那样。换个学生摔倒，他们也是用同样的方法回应。所以，不是你不好的原因，也不是他们不喜欢你的原因，而是他们自己的原因。”
后来我安慰了他几句，以为事情就过去了。
没想到，回到住处以后，他几乎没有再跟我聊天。
我想，他大概需要一点时间消化自己的情绪，所以没有一直打扰他。
有那么几秒钟，我真的希望他不要去上学了。
后来又觉得，不行。
经历很重要，感受也很重要。
如果我替他绕开了这些经历，我也等于掠夺了他成长的机会。
今天看似不好的事情，放到几年以后再看，也许反而都是人生的宝藏。
晚上准备睡觉的时候，他突然冒出一句：
“我很后悔来这里读书。”
接着又说：
“我还是很喜欢 Berkeley 的学生，他们都很尊重别人。”
我知道他的意思。
如果是在 Berkeley，他摔倒了，很多学生都会主动扶他，甚至直接陪他去医疗室。
说到最后，他甚至气到冒出一句：
“有时候，我很讨厌这个宇宙。”
我笑着问他：
“那你也讨厌妈妈吗？”
他马上摇头。
“不是。”
我轻轻抱了抱他。
“我们不能因为遇到一些不友好的人，就把自己的心情交给他们。”
“他们也许还没有学会怎么尊重别人，也许经历过一些我们不知道的事情，所以会欺负人、会嫉妒人，也会用伤人的方式让别人难受。”
“但他们就是想看到你不开心。”
他想了一下，忽然接着说：
“对！如果他们真的希望我不开心，而我真的不开心了，那不是刚好中了他们的计吗？”
我笑了。
“对，就是这样。”
他马上接了一句：
“他们越希望我不开心，我越要开心！”
“没错。”
我继续说：
“你还记得我们第一天坐巴士的时候，遇到那个很不友好的司机吗？”
“记得。”
“可是后来遇到的司机，是不是都很好？”
“是。”
“这就说明，不友善的人当然有，但友善的人也有。”
我继续问：
“那你觉得你的老师对你好不好？”
他回答：
“好！”
我说：
“那就好好享受最后两天上学的时光吧。”
“既然我们控制不了别人会是什么样的人，那就不要让别人来控制我们的心情。”
“要不然，我们就亏大了。我们的每一秒、每一分钟、每一天都很宝贵呢！”
他点点头。
我又问他：
“你知道吗？我们每个人来到这个世界，都是有自己的功课。”
“是。”
“那你现在的功课，就是学会不要让别人影响自己的心情。”
“而他们的功课，就是学会成为一个更尊重别人、更有同情心的人。”
“至于他们最后会成为怎样的人，那是他们的人生，我们管不了。”
他想了几秒，认真地说：
“我希望他们去抢劫银行，这样就会被关进监狱，就不会出来欺负别人了。”
我忍不住笑了。
心想：
果然跟妈妈一样，善恶分明。
临睡前，我说：
“不管怎么样，我们只剩两天就完成这个暑假的任务了。”
他立刻纠正我：
“四天。”
原来，
他把周末，也算进去了。
婷妈的亲子日常 创作于 2026.08.1
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 #295: Don’t Hand Your Remote Control to Someone Else
Yesterday, when I picked Asher up, he forgot to bring his backpack. The moment he saw me from a distance, he ran straight toward me.
On the way back, he barely said a word.
I felt that something wasn’t quite right.
Later, I found out that he had fallen at school.
I immediately asked,
“Does it hurt? Did your teacher give you some ice?”
I looked at his foot. The skin was scraped, but thankfully it wasn’t bleeding.
He nodded.
“Yes.”
After a pause, he added,
“But none of the other kids cared. They just kept talking about me. They were so unfriendly.”
The more he talked, the more upset he became.
“They had the attitude of a lost child!”
I paused for a second.
That was actually an English expression he had taught me just the day before.
He told me that if someone was being really rude to you, you could say,
“What’s with the attitude, lost child?”
I thought it was an interesting expression.
In the past, if someone bullied me, I probably would have replied,
“What? Were you never taught any manners?”
Compared to that, “lost child” felt less harsh, yet still carried a touch of humor.
So I continued comforting him.
“Those children are simply the kind of children they are. They didn’t become that way because of you. If another student had fallen, they probably would have reacted the same way. So this isn’t because there’s something wrong with you, nor because they don’t like you. This is about them, not about you.”
After comforting him for a while, I thought he had moved on.
But after we got back, he barely spoke to me for the rest of the afternoon.
That wasn’t like him.
I figured he probably needed some time to process his feelings, so I didn’t interrupt him.
For a few seconds, I honestly wished he didn’t have to go back to school anymore.
But then I caught myself.
No.
Experiences matter.
Feelings matter.
If I tried to shield him from every difficult experience, I would also be taking away his opportunity to grow.
Something that feels painful today may, years later, turn out to be one of life’s greatest treasures.
That night, just before bed, he suddenly said,
“I really regret coming here to study.”
Then he added,
“I still like the students at Berkeley. They’re so respectful.”
I knew exactly what he meant.
If this had happened at Berkeley, many students would have helped him up, or even walked him to the nurse’s office.
By the end, he was so frustrated that he blurted out,
“Sometimes I really hate this universe.”
I smiled and asked,
“Do you hate Mommy too?”
He immediately shook his head.
“No.”
I gently hugged him.
“We can’t let unfriendly people take control of our emotions.”
“Maybe they haven’t learned how to respect others yet. Maybe they’ve experienced things we don’t know about. That’s why they bully people, feel jealous, or hurt others.”
“But one thing is certain—they want to see you unhappy.”
He thought for a moment and suddenly said,
“Right! If they want me to be unhappy, and I actually become unhappy, then I’ve fallen right into their trap!”
I smiled.
“Exactly.”
He immediately followed with,
“The more they want me to be unhappy, the happier I’m going to be!”
“That’s right.”
Then I continued,
“Do you remember the very first bus driver we met when we arrived here?”
“Yes.”
“But weren’t all the bus drivers we met afterward kind?”
“Yes.”
“So that tells us something. There are unfriendly people in the world, but there are also kind people.”
Then I asked,
“What about your teacher? Is your teacher kind to you?”
“Yes!”
I smiled.
“Then enjoy your last two days of school.”
“Since we can’t control what kind of people others choose to become, we shouldn’t let them control how we feel.”
“Otherwise, we’d be losing something far too precious. Every second, every minute, every day of our lives is valuable.”
He nodded.
Then I asked,
“Do you know that every one of us comes into this world with lessons to learn?”
“Yes.”
“Your lesson right now is learning not to let other people control your emotions.”
“And their lesson is learning to become kinder, more respectful, and more compassionate.”
“As for what kind of people they eventually become—that’s their life. We can’t control it.”
He thought for a few seconds, then said very seriously,
“I hope they rob a bank, so they’ll go to jail and won’t be able to come out and bully people anymore.”
I couldn’t help laughing.
I thought to myself,
Just like his mom—
he has a very clear sense of right and wrong.
Before he fell asleep, I said,
“No matter what, we only have two more school days before we finish this summer.”
He immediately corrected me.
“Four.”
Then I realized…
He was counting the weekend too.
Tingma’s Parenting Diary
Written on August 1, 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.