There is so much harshness in the world. It scares me, the terrible pain the kids in Bob's class turn into disrespect which hurts Bob and wakes him at three in the morning with pounding heart. At least he has the grace and kindness not to pass the harshness along. K.K. cried Thursday night about a bully at school. the annoying, persistent, demoralizing kind. Apparently the kids who are not in Pre AP classes tend to behave badly at school, ioncluding unkindly to others. Teachers in K.K.'s school have great curriculum, but it doesn't seem to be changing the flow of behavior. Yesterday at the park with Liam there was a little boy, about five, who greeted us with a sem-iautomatic toy weapon. He kept saying "Watch out there." and firing at us. We ignored him. But when Liam tripped the boy asked if he was OK in a perfectly sweet tone - like the violent acting out was completely apart from his ordinary way of being and he didn't even know it - scary to me. I know kids play guns, cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians whether they have toy guns or not, but the odd thing about this was his involving strangers as victims, not inviting us to play, just shooting at us. I also see the economic differences so harsh in our community, so many having terrible struggles just for necessities and a small number hip deep in luxurious choices. I've spent most of my life on the luck side of the line, but that doesn't make the presence of the line, and what seems to be an intensification, any more right. This is one of those mornings when "Life is hard." hits me straiht between the eyes and "Life is good." is a truth I reach for. I don't have to reach very far. Liam just brought me a home baked cookie.