….. is a very likely headline in my future. I’m just letting you know now. I hope you’ll defend me when online forums start tearing me to shreds.
Maybe you’ll say, “No, I know her. She’s an ANGEL. She must’ve really been pushed to the edge.”
Although, I have to admit, those who really know me would probably say, “Yep. Saw that coming.”
All I ask is that my journo friends use one of the following photos when reporting on The Beating Incident. I think I look nice in these ones.
Please don’t use these ones.
Cheers for that xxx
So, I should explain….
I’ve never been shy. I’m particularly comfortable with sharing my grievances.
And I have been AGGRIEVED my friends… because two little punks made fun of my baby.
We were in one of those indoor play centres and he was standing in one of those car climbing things, happily spinning the wheel and bouncing up and down.
Two older boys were jumping on the bonnet of the car. Too close and too rough for my liking, so I stepped a little closer. I told myself to calm down and let the kids play (I frequently have to tell myself to calm down).
Thud stared at the pair with absolute rapture. OLDER BOYS! Playing NEAR him! He was so excited to be close to the action.
He grinned and hopped even faster, trying to get their attention. He pointed at the huge lights hanging from the ceiling, trying anything to engage the boys in conversation. I smiled at his little way of saying “wanna be best friends?”
“Ooo ooo!” he said, but the boys ignored him.
“Ooo ooo!!!” he shouted even louder, hopping and pointing and grinning like a lunatic.
The two boys stopped thumping the bonnet of the car and looked at each other, laughing.
“Ooo oo!” they repeated, pointing at him.
“Ooo ooo ooo ooo!” They started making monkey sounds, scratching their armpits and hopping from foot to foot.
Thud squealed with laughter. He was beyond thrilled that the boys were talking to him.
My brain? SNAP. SNAAAAAAP.
His happiness hurt my heart. He thought they were playing with him. But they weren’t playing. They were being little shits and I couldn’t bear it.
“Ok!” I spat at them.
“Enough jumping thanks. He’s using the car right now. Back up please.” I barked.
The boys froze mid-air and slid off the bonnet with the stony faces of children who’ve just been chastised by a strange grown-up.
“I’m four!” one of the boys declared, like it was important to the conversation. He stuck his defiant little chin out. I think I was supposed to be impressed with his big boy-ness.
I lost some of my puff. He was four. His accomplice was about 3. They were just being kids.
I scanned the adults sitting at the tables around the play area. I could see who these boys belonged to. A couple of mums were sitting having coffee and gossiping loudly. Not one flying fuck was being given about their children who were currently in a stand-off with a grown woman.
I turned back to Master Four.
“What’s your name?” I asked him.
And like that, my anger evaporated. Unless his parents are complete morons, I’m going to assume his name is Bryce. But they call him Brycie. Because he’s little. And I guess people who love him find him cute.
“And what’s your name?” I asked his friend.
He held up five fingers.
Riiiiggghht. Not a Mensa candidate then.
“His name is Jayden and he’s 3 and a half,” said Brycie. Based on the mums sitting nearby, I’m going to take a stab in the dark and suggest his name is actually spelled Jaydyn. Or Jhaiden.
Brycie then launched into a description of what slides they’d just been on and how high he’d climbed up the ladder.
I pretended to listen for a little longer before telling Brycie and Jcheydun to take it easy on the equipment and to be careful around the littler kids so no one gets hurt.
I scooped up Thud and walked away to the sounds of Brycie protesting how big he is and how he doesn’t need to be careful anymore because he can climb really high. Jzeidin was picking his ear and staring into space. Probably working on his theory of quantum mechanics in teleportation.
I learnt three things that day.
- My baby is going to be picked on. Brycie and Gjiaeddyin weren’t really picking on Thud, they were just being kids. But kids are ARSEHOLES. Sooner or later a bully will turn on my baby.
- It’s going to hurt me as much as it’ll hurt him. I wasn’t expecting that. I knew I’d be angry, but I didn’t anticipate the ache in my heart that came from the mere possibility of his feelings being hurt. I can’t handle the thought of his little face when someone makes him feel bad about himself.
- I may need a lawyer one day. I have disturbingly clear visions of myself in a knock-down scrag fight with another mother whose child has behaved atrociously. It’s going to happen. It’s just a matter of when.
Has your child been picked on or bullied? How did you react?
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