DEAR JANE: My six-year-old son is being bullied by his entire class, all because I made a stupid faux pas at the birthday party.

Dear Jane,

I feel like I have ruined my son’s life. At least his social life.

And it’s all for a stupid birthday party.

This whole saga began when my six-year-old son was invited to a classmate’s sixth birthday celebration at our local park in March. The invitation was emailed to all the parents in the class and when I received it, I admit I was quite surprised.

Because in addition to listing all the standard birthday party details (time, location, dress code), the invitation also included a link to a gift registry full of items the little one was looking forward to, as well as a request from his parents. to let them know which option we planned to choose so they could avoid “doubling up”.

Personally, I can’t stand the thought of spending money on silly things like plastic toys and brain-rotting junk, especially when the kids are so young, and particularly when I don’t really know the child or their parents. Also, none of the gifts on the list were under $40, which I think is crazy!

So I emailed them back, thanking them for the invitation, but explaining that if a gift was necessary, I would prefer one of my choosing.

They responded by saying that they had ‘carefully’ chosen the selection of items for their son, and that if I was not willing to ‘stick to the list’ they would prefer that I not bring any gifts. So I didn’t do it.

I took my son to the birthday party thinking everything would be fine, but as soon as I arrived and saw the table full of gifts, I knew I was in trouble.

And what do you know, part of the party process involved a ridiculously over-the-top gift-opening session during which all the kids were asked to sit in a circle around the birthday boy and his gifts, so he could unwrap them and give them to them. Personal thanks to each of them.

Obviously, when he got to my son, there was nothing to open, and his parents simply said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “well, I didn’t want to bring a gift,” at which point the birthday boy burst into tears. .

From then on, the party was a nightmare. None of the other kids wanted to talk to my son and I got him out of there as soon as possible. Even before they cut the cake.

Since then, everyone in his class has shunned him and left him out of all other birthday parties.

I have no idea what to do here. My six-year-old son is miserable, all because I decided to take a stupid stance against something so small and petty. I feel really bad about this, but I have no idea how to fix it.

I’m tempted to throw an over-the-top party for all the kids in his class just to show them how wonderful my son really is… but I don’t know if that will solve the problem.

What would you do?

Of,

Killjoy

Dear killjoy,

What a horrible situation. Frankly, I’m a little surprised that this happened to you, and furthermore, that a group of six-year-olds unilaterally decided to reject your son because he didn’t bring a gift. .

This all sounds miserable and childish. Also, having a gift list for a six-year-old is possibly one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard in my life. But you’re in a bind and now we have to figure out how to fix it.

Is not easy.

I hate the idea of ​​you having to throw a party, especially when your values ​​aren’t aligned with the rest of the class.

I think maybe instead of trying to buy your child back to popularity at school, start finding him/her activities outside of school where he/she can form a circle of friends whose friendships aren’t based on money or gifts.

And I would have ongoing conversations with your child about this. About how important it is to have friends who value us not because of the gifts we give or how much money we have, but because we are good people.

This is an important lesson, valuable but painful for him, but one that will serve him throughout his life.

Dear Jane,

I’m a 26 year old teacher living in Dallas and I’ve found myself in a really difficult situation with my close friends.

I’m lucky to have ended up living in a city with so many of my high school friends. There are five of us who have known each other since we were 14 and do pretty much everything together, which may sound strange, but that’s how we’ve always been.

The thing is, all my friends have gotten high-paying jobs in the last few years, and obviously being a teacher doesn’t earn me a big salary. I love my job, I really do, but I’ve started to feel like I’m totally out of step with my friends, who understandably want to enjoy the luxuries their money can buy them.

Where once we would have spent a weekend in an Airbnb, now they want to fly on a group vacation to Europe. The dinners we used to host at home with cheap bottles of wine have now been replaced by meals at nice restaurants.

I’ve tried really hard to keep up with them, but despite having cut back on almost every other aspect of my life, I’m now faced with some pretty insane credit card bills that I simply can’t afford to pay.

I don’t want to stop them from enjoying everything they’ve earned, but I also hate the idea of ​​them living these lives of luxury without me there.

How can I find a middle ground?

Of,

penniless friend

Dear penniless friend,

If you are really good friends, they will understand your situation.

You need to sit down with them and have an honest conversation, tell them that you love them, but you just can’t afford to keep up with the current social situation.

Ask them if they would consider having dinner at home again so you can participate, arranging events so you can go too.

I wouldn’t expect them to change everything, but it’s fair to ask that at least some of their socializing be organized with you in mind. If they are true friends, they will understand and probably make some changes.

In fact, if your lives are really that luxurious, they may all chip in to allow you to attend as well, knowing it’s out of your means.

If no changes are made, then I’m afraid you were never very good friends, and it’s time to go out and make some new ones.