Maria had a bad day today. She told me no one wanted to be her copine, her friend. She sat by herself in the tunnel, whatever that is, and cried.

They told her it was because she played their game the wrong way. They spoke to her in a mean way. She thinks they just don't want to be her friend.

We walked home together, both of us desperately sad. Daddy can't fix this one, but can make it hurt a bit less with a few hugs. For her anyway.

Carlo was not concerned. He likes to stand on the coffee table and hurl himself on to the sofa his own length away. He usually makes it with a soft splat but sometimes bounces off the edge and thuds on to the floor. Unlike Maria's emotional bruises, his stop hurting in a moment.