Juvenile Angst

Oh, Dylan. Poor, sweet Dylan. I feel like I'm reliving all the anguishes of my own childhood (that feeling when you realize you've let go of the balloon, and it's out of reach, and it's too late, it's gone).

He wanted to get a book about dolphins at the school book fair. I said, okay, get out your piggy bank. We pulled out a $5, which he tucked into the pocket of his lunch box so that he could go buy his book during lunch time. 

When I came home, I asked him if he got the book, and got a very cryptic answer. Something about how you had to skip lunch to go to the book fair? I assumed that something about the process of going to the book fair seemed daunting to him. We could fill out a form instead, so I started filling that out, and asked him to go get the $5 so I could clip it to the form. At that point, I got distracted and forgot we were in the middle of a transaction until after dinner, when he came to me looking sort of pouty. I asked him what the matter was, and he said, "I'm upset because I'm never going to be able to save up the money for that dolphin book!" 

I said, "What about the $5?"

Dylan wailed, "I gave it to Quinn so he could buy a book. He really wanted it, and he was crying, and I wanted to help him!"

I calmed him down and said that I could write a check for the book, not to worry about that. And then we had a discussion wherein I tried to gently explain that it was GREAT that he was so generous and helpful, and such a good friend, but (essentially) who was crying because they couldn't have a book now? I suggested that you could also help someone feel better by giving them a hug or doing something nice, that it wasn't always your job to fix other people's problems. 

I can see it now. Our next chapter book is going to be Codependent No More.

I tried a little allegory: "If your friend is hungry and you give him half of your sandwich, that's great and really generous. If you give him the whole sandwich, that's also great and really generous, but now you don't have a lunch."

His response? "But I'd still have the rest of my lunch!" Clearly, if there was a sandwich, there MUST be accompaniments.

What's your favorite childhood tragedy?