"I got your orange balloon, Owen," she said as she grabbed the only orange balloon in the sea of pink balloons that were of no interest to Owen. She waved the balloon high above her head and shook her hips from side to side as the smile grew on her face.
Owen, distraught, tried to chase her for a while and then sat down on the steps, curled his upper lip and cried like a two year old should. I didn't even try to comfort him or punish Josie other than getting the balloon back. Because I knew soon enough he'd be able to catch her and she'd get all the punishment she needed to ensure she never took something of his again.
I like to blame Norm's DNA for Josie's mean streak. But the truth is that I don't know if I am the one to blame. You see, even if I was destined to be the meanest girl in the world, my mom would have never let it happen.
I will never forget the day that I told my mom that I hated a girl in my school because she was a nerd. I will never forget because my mom made me have her over to my house all of the time so I could get to know her better and to make sure I never again said such awful things about people.
Owen is no angel either. For months he's been lying in wait while Josie draws with the chalk and then as soon as she steps back to admire her chalk up, he runs up and scribbles all over it with his own piece of chalk. To his credit, he stopped after a few times when Josie was so upset that she sat and cried uncontrollably for longer than usual.
This morning, Josie was the one lying in wait while Owen and I drew a dragon. As soon as I drew on the last of the 5 eyes Owen had created she ran up and drew a big line right through the dragon's head.
Owen immediately started crying. Josie stepped back with a satisfied look on her face.
"Josie, why would you do that? You hate it when Owen does that to you. Why would you do it to him?"
And my little mean girl responded, "Cause I love it."
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