Bedtime meltdown

Bed time. Last night. Little man cuddled up next to me whilst I tried to read him a story. He wanted the story, but he didn't really want to sit still or be quiet while I read the story. But, I tried. Till I gave up.

He sees the pennant bearing his name up on his bedroom wall. Benjamin.
He says, "That's not my name".
Well, true, we rarely ever call him by his full name; it's always been just Ben.
(or buddy, or little man, or puppy, or sweetie, or stinkyface…etc.)
I thought that he might be a little confused about what it said - he's only 4 and as such, doesn't read. Yet.
So, I read it to him, spelling out each of the letters for him and telling him when I finished that Benjamin is his name - his full name. Little did I know that a meltdown was imminent. Just out of the blue.

He looked right into my eyes and said that he's, "no good at anyfing."
Big, big blue eyes filled with tears and all the heartbreak a little boy could have, came spilling out.

"I can't do anyfing, and I can't write my letters, and I don't know anyfing."

Then:

"I'm mean."

What?! Um, I'm stumped already trying to understand where all the - I can't do anything stuff - came from, and then he says he's mean?? Understand that he is absolutely NOT mean (*) and his abilities with his letters and writing are exactly where they should be for a 4 year old. So, I asked him who told you that you were mean? He said, "Armond." Ok. Well, one question answered. I'm thinking then that tomorrow I'll just have to go (hunt down this little twerp Armond, and who names their kid Armond, anyway??? and show him what mean is.....) have a little talk with little man's teacher and see what might be behind my baby's bed time meltdown.

*case in point: Just last night, we went over to the local playground to let little man burn off some energy. While there, he made friends with a much smaller and very cute little girl while on the slide. Little girl lost her flip flops as she was coming down the slide, so my sweet, sweet little boy knelt down, picked them up and waited for her. When she made it to the bottom, he put them on for her. Isn't that the sweetest?!? Is that the heart of a mean child? I think not! Case closed.

Brought sweetest hubby into the conversation at some point; we both gave little man mucho, mucho assurances that he was, indeed, the sweetest boy on the planet, and he could do anyfing, (that word is driving my spell-checker absolutely crazy, btw) and that he was very smart and we were very, very proud of him. Meltdown contained.

This morning, spoke with teacher for just a few minutes and relayed the story. Her opinion of his abilities mirrors ours; she says he's doing great and that of course he needs to work on his writing. Um, the whole class does! She rolled her eyes at the comment from the twerp. She did say that her "helper" in the classroom does have a problem with tact from time to time, and if she perhaps had said anything to him, she'd address that. She also had a plan to talk to little man one on one today to see what he told her. So, we'll see what the day brings.

Oh, and twerp, you don't know mean. Yet.