Coming home from scouts tonight, the Boy and I had a conversation about friendship. He talked to me a bit about what happened to Malfoy in the third book of the Harry Potter series, which K is currently reading to him. Apparently he got mauled by some creature.
“Oh, that’s not good,” I said.
“But Malfoy is bad!” E clarified.
“Yes, but that’s no reason to wish ill of him. Besides, he might not turn out that bad by the end of it all.” I knew this from conversations I’d had with L about the series, but I didn’t want to give anything away to the boy.
“Yeah, L told me that he and Harry become friends in the end.”
So much for not giving it away.
“That’s sort of like T and me,” the Boy continued. “We didn’t use to like each other. Well, we really didn’t know each other, but then we got to know each other and decided to become friends.”
I thought about that for a moment, pondering the choice of words: “decided” to become friends. I imagined this conversation between the two boys, a negotiation of sorts.
It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it?
T might not even be aware that in E’s eyes, they “decided” to become friends. For all I know, T might not even consider E his friend but merely an acquaintance.
Kids and adults see friendship differently, I think. I feel I’m more jaded than I can imagine him ever being. That’s the magic of childhood, I guess.