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The awkward little boy ran home from school, burst straight through the door and into his mother's arms, crying.

"Come here baby, tell Mama all about it," cooed his mother.

"The- the kids a- at school k-keep picking at me," he said through sobs beginning to quiet down. "They always call me weird and other ugly names and say that I- I'm not - NORMAL!"

He began to bawl again.

"Sweetheart," said his mother warmly. "What is normal?"

"I-I don't know, Mother," He sniffled. "I assume it's when everyone likes you and doesn't want to tease you. I assume it's everything I'm not!"

He started to cry some more.

"Nuh uh, baby," said his mom sternly, but gently just the same. "That's not normal at all, at least not by my definition. You see, normal changes standards when you go from person to person. Did you know that, baby?"

"N- No Ma'am," he stammered softly.

"I didn't think so. Don't you go worrying about what these kids think about you, Hun, because normal by their standards is nothing but conformity. And who wants to waste their lives being ordinary anyway?"

The boy hugged his mom and went upstairs to reflect on this epiphany. The weekend passed by and when it came time to go to school he went happily with his chin up, proud. The kids did as they pleased, just because they could and taunted the poor boy fruitlessly.

They asked him why he wasn't being such a big stinking baby about it this time.

"Because I don't care; you're being silly and ignorant," his reply. "I'd rather be abnormal any day then be cruel and boring, like you. Who'd want to exist, without essence...?"