Wicked Little Things

Yesterday I took my daughter to the little playground and the Clackamas Town Center mall. This has become somewhat of a tradition for us, as I don’t work Monday’s but Jenny almost always does. It is Daddy-Daughter Day, and so we look for fun things to do together. Often that means French fries and the aforementioned play structures.

Now, for someone looking to study the behaviors of parents and/or their children, the play structure at the mall (hence forth referred to has “the toys”) make an excellent learning environment. There are so many fascinating behaviors to be observed, speeches to be heard, and so on, but it is two things in particular that spur me to blogging this day, and they are two opposite extremes.

The first is the very small children. Specifically, the very small children that are allowed to wander about virtually (and sometimes literally) unattended by parents, who for some reason think these big toys provide some sort of magical protections against injuries and evils. A few weeks ago when we were there and I was waiting for my daughter to slide down the slide there was a little girl who was a bit overzealous in her climbing and took a bit of a tumble. Other than the slight violation of social moirés that took place when I caught her, I don’t mind helping out like that; I mean, were all parents with toddlers, right? One big, happy family? What I do mind is when I have to actively intervene to protect a child that somebody else should have been watching in the first place. I am not a busybody parent, I don’t make it my business to police the toys and in fact I try my best to stay out of whatever it is someone else’s kid is doing, so you know if I am intervening than things have come to a head. So, having said that, please parents, do not let your 6 month old sit at the bottom of the slide and get run into by child after child coming down it. Please don’t make me move my daughter, who is going about it the right way, so she won’t injure your kid, who is not. THAT REALLY IRRITATES ME.

On the other end of the really little kids are the really big ones. The worst violation of this I ever saw was a child and his friend who were somewhere between the ages of 10 and 12. Generally though this applies to the kids are about 4 or 5, still young enough to play on the toys, and darn well old enough to know how to play nicely. Listen, every kid is naughty sometimes. My daughter sometimes has to work very hard to repress her urge to hit, and sometimes she needs my help to do so. So I will not judge you if I see you stopping your sweet little boy from pushing and then pinching my kid; I will be grateful! I will be somewhat more judgmental as I watch your kid beat the snot out of other little kids and shout about how the slide is his personal property all while you remains blissfully absorbed in your book or on your cell phone. My daughter, who is not yet two, made her way up the stairs to the slide a happy little girl, and by the time I made it around the other side to cheer her on she was in tears as some older boy was pushing her out of the way. She actually isn’t that big of a crier, this kid was making some sort of point, I think. We got through that, and to her credit she responded by reminding another group of kids not to push when the really little kid, who I mentioned earlier, decided to try his luck with the slide. That was much better than my reaction. Right after she was pushed several times I told her that next time she could punch him in the face. I should work on that, probably.

Moral of the story: parent your child, don’t make me do it, because I am not nearly as good with your kid as I am with mine.