Sandhya Acharya would love to have the soaring confidence of her six-year-old. Who wouldn’t like to believe that everything about you is just great?
One afternoon, in my son’s schoolyard, I watched a little boy talking animatedly with his sole audience, a little girl in pigtails. I walked a little closer to observe.
He bubbled up and down, his eyes dancing with excitement. “Watch my muscles," he gloated. He flexed his thin arms with an emphatic "Grr."
The little girl looked at him straight-faced and said, “You don’t have any.”
There was silence for a moment. Then the boy yelled back indignantly, “Oh, I do. Look at my sweet muscles. I love my muscles.” He then raced off to find a more discerning audience.