It's bedtime. I'm making one last phone call to arrange for some childcare. Justin starts playing with the base of the phone and disconnects my call. I try the phone again. It's broken. It's late, I'm tired, and Emily was just screaming in my ear that I had to be the one to put her to bed. I've had it for the day. I'm used up and ready for the children to be asleep. I snap at him, "Justin, you have to be more careful than that. Now the phone is broken." He says, 'Sorry,' and I ignore him. I'm sure I'm brusque and distant. I don't want to deal with broken phone or Justin. "Come on" I say, "Let's get you to bed."
      In his room, Justin lies on the bed and starts sobbing, "I'm a bad person. I'm a bad person." I tell him he's not a bad person, that he just made a mistake. He continues repeating over and over, 'I'm a bad person." His body is wracking with sobs.
      I lay down next to him and put my arm around him. I'm not mad anymore. I'm concerned. He's really means it, and it's hard to hear your kid say such things. Isn't hating yourself supposed to be the purview of grown-ups with emotionally abusive childhoods? Why is my six-year-old suddenly absorbed in hating himself?
      His sobs subside for a moment and he says, "I said I was sorry and you didn't even look at me."
      Oops. "Justin, I say," let me tell you two things. "One is that I wasn't in a very good mood just now. It's been a long day and I was tired and I snapped at you. I'm sorry I did that, but I was mad. But that doesn't make you a bad person. And the second thing is, sometimes when you apologize to someone they're not always ready to hear it in that moment. That's just the way it is sometimes. Sometimes they're too mad to accept your apology and you have to wait till later."
      "I know," he says.
      " Do you want have a do-over? Do you want to try it again?"
      "No!" He falls back down on the bed, a new wave of despair gripping him. "I'm a bad person. I'm a bad person!"
      Such global thinking. Ouch. It hurts. I try a different approach. "Justin, do you know what I did to the phone last week? I was taking out the recycling and I was expecting a call and I brought the phone out with me. I set it down on the fence and then I forgot about it and left it there. Do you remember that big storm where it rained all night long? Well I left the phone out in the rain for the whole night and half of the next day. I thought I'd ruined it for sure. It was totally dead, but once it dried out, it worked just fine. I made a big mistake that time, didn't I? But that didn't make me a bad person."
      "Maybe you're not a bad person, but I am a bad person." He continues his self-imposed litany. Clearly, I haven't made a dent.
      "Justin, we all make mistakes. That's how we learn things. You can't learn just because someone tells you something. You have to try things yourself-and sometimes that means making mistakes. It's an important part of growing up. And you know what else?"
      "What?"
      "That wasn't even a very bad mistake. I won't be happy if we have to buy a new phone, but a telephone is just a thing. Mistakes are much more serious when they hurt people-and I should know, I've made plenty of those kind, too. If I just hated myself every time I made a mistake, I wouldn't be able to get up and make breakfast and take you to school and do my work and help you with your homework. I'd hate myself too much to even move. When you make a mistake, you just try to make it right, and then go on.
      "But I still feel like a bad person." He's crying, but not as forlornly.
      "Can I tell you some of the good things about you?"
      "Okay."
      "Well you're a great builder. You have a wonderful imagination. You really know how to focus your mind and complete a task. You're fun. You're a great swimmer. You've taught your sister lots of wonderful things. You're a good eater. And a good friend. There's lots of things about you to love."
      By this time, I'm curled up with Justin, slowly stroking his head. He listens for a while, and then returns to his mantra: "I'm a bad person." It's an idea that has loomed up and captured him completely.
      I'm stumped, but decide to try something else. "Justin, do you know what an affirmation is?"
      "No."
      "Well, its something positive you tell yourself to replace the bad thoughts you're having. Let's call the part of you that's saying, 'I'm a bad person' the bad guys. Now every time the bad guys start attacking you, I want you to bring in the good guys. What the good guys say is this: "I'm a good person who made a mistake.' Do you think you can do that?"
      "Yeah, Mama, I can do that." There is some relief in his voice. Maybe I've finally found a bridge to his poor battered, little psyche. The forces of good and evil are something he really understands.
      Justin closes his eyes and lays his head on the pillow. I can hear him whispering to himself, "I'm a good person who made a mistake." I keep petting him, softer now. I watch him sink down into the bed, finally letting go. I let out a sigh, relieved that once more, the good guys have won.