My girl held it together. She did. Well done kid. Then she went back to her friend's house and was treated to entries in her friend's diary written by the bully kid a month earlier. Eight months since bully girl had last attended my girl's school and still the insults and slander continue in a written format, recorded for posterity. My girl held it together. She did. Well done kid. Long enough to arrive home. At home she screamed out her indignation and anger and hurt. I joined in. Somewhere there, in amongst all that mutual fury, things got funny. We had a long chat about choosing our friends. Understanding a healthy friendship. Finding good hearts and kindred spirits. About how much stronger my kid is this year than last. How she has changed, how she gets to decide how to deal with things. I realised that these days my kid is much more than travelling ok. She's travelling brilliantly, thank you very much. And she's wearing her made to order (longer in the body, shorter in the sleeves, please) Rubble jumper LOTS. ......................... PS. It did not end there. There was communication with the Mum of the playdate and an entirely productive frank and open discussion. YAY! Meanwhile, I know from previous entirely patronising and ghastly experience, that approaching the bully girl's mother is an exercise in gobsmacking FUTILITY. This may or may not be the reason why I am still fighting the still adrenaline-charged temptation to aim one