So yesterday I took my 3 kids to skate park nearby. We had watched it under construction last year when we'd go to the pool, and the kids wanted to try it out, since it's spring break and all.
So we get there. W took his new Fuzion scooter, and M and C took their Razor scooters.
The place was full of half-grown thugs on skateboards. You know the kind, sans pants that fit well, sans manners, sans recent haircuts, etc.
These thugs tried to tell my kids that scooters were not allowed. My darling kiddos, with nice haircuts, sweet manners, and well-fitting freshly laundered clothes simply ignored them. W tried to be friends with a couple of the "cooler" kids, but they were just a little to "cool" (read: rude) to talk to him, so he just kept scooter-ing around.
Then the bigger kids started yelling at the smaller kids to get off the ramps, to get outta the way, and so on. W thought maybe they'd like him better if he agreed with them, and proceeded to tell M and C to get off the ramps. I called W over to explain to him that this was a public park, and if the smaller kids wanted to play on the ramps, he needed to be quiet and take turns.
This thug yells to me, "I can hear you! I standing RIGHT HERE!" while I'm talking to my son. I guess he thought I was talking about him telling the smaller kids to stay off the ramps. Guilty conscience, ya hoodlum?
Here comes Mama Bear, y'all. I was mad. First of all, don't tell my kids they can't play as they like in a public park. Second, don't interrupt a mama who is explaining the concept of sharing and taking turns. THIRD...DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE I'M NOT YOUR ELDER!!!
Now, I know that kid has a mama, and I'm sure his mama has done her best to raise a nice boy. But that kid.... if he'd been mine.... O glory.... I wanted to walk over there and grab him by the ear (or a lank of greasy uncut hair, whichever I encountered first) and give him a little lesson in manners. I'm still furious about it.
I told my poor kids we wouldn't be going back to that park, and they understood. It's not fair to them, but I'm afraid to go back. I might hurt the next punk who talks to me like that.
So we get there. W took his new Fuzion scooter, and M and C took their Razor scooters.
The place was full of half-grown thugs on skateboards. You know the kind, sans pants that fit well, sans manners, sans recent haircuts, etc.
These thugs tried to tell my kids that scooters were not allowed. My darling kiddos, with nice haircuts, sweet manners, and well-fitting freshly laundered clothes simply ignored them. W tried to be friends with a couple of the "cooler" kids, but they were just a little to "cool" (read: rude) to talk to him, so he just kept scooter-ing around.
Then the bigger kids started yelling at the smaller kids to get off the ramps, to get outta the way, and so on. W thought maybe they'd like him better if he agreed with them, and proceeded to tell M and C to get off the ramps. I called W over to explain to him that this was a public park, and if the smaller kids wanted to play on the ramps, he needed to be quiet and take turns.
This thug yells to me, "I can hear you! I standing RIGHT HERE!" while I'm talking to my son. I guess he thought I was talking about him telling the smaller kids to stay off the ramps. Guilty conscience, ya hoodlum?
Here comes Mama Bear, y'all. I was mad. First of all, don't tell my kids they can't play as they like in a public park. Second, don't interrupt a mama who is explaining the concept of sharing and taking turns. THIRD...DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE I'M NOT YOUR ELDER!!!
Now, I know that kid has a mama, and I'm sure his mama has done her best to raise a nice boy. But that kid.... if he'd been mine.... O glory.... I wanted to walk over there and grab him by the ear (or a lank of greasy uncut hair, whichever I encountered first) and give him a little lesson in manners. I'm still furious about it.
I told my poor kids we wouldn't be going back to that park, and they understood. It's not fair to them, but I'm afraid to go back. I might hurt the next punk who talks to me like that.
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