“I’m butters” said my teen.
“You are gorgeous” I say soothingly.
“No I’m not. I’m fat. And I’m short”.
“Basically the deal here is that you aren’t average. You want to be average. There’s such an emphasis on being average, but it’s boring.” I say
I try to think of someone short, not too great looking but with such personality you don’t even notice. I hit upon…
“Look at Danny Devito! He’s short but I don’t think he’s ever turned in a bad performance” I tell her brightly.
“But has he got a girlfriend?”
“Yeah. He’s married and everything” I say
“I expect that’s cos he’s famous. I’m not famous. No one is ever going to like me. I’ve been single for two years.”
“You are 15! Someone is going to like you. Of course they are!”
“No never. No one’s ever going to like me. I’ll be a virgin when I die”
“I didn’t know what was going on, so I took the plunge and texted him: ‘Are you into me?'” Tears trickled down her downy cheeks. “He said ‘No. We are just friends’.”
“I really hate that. When blokes you fancy just want to be your friend. When they flirt and confuse you.” I commiserated. “They are power tripping”
“I know” she sniffed.
“I mean my attitude, in the words of Jayne County, is: ‘If you don’t wanna fuck me, fuck off'” I joked.