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Open Letter To *THAT* Playground Mom

To the "mom" at the playground:

I was at the playground when you were there.  I was swinging with my beloved Little L, and you were talking to another woman in the shade.  We were both there for nearly 30 minutes before I left.

In that time, I had no idea you came with a child.  I only discovered this a minute before we departed.  Do you see how that might be a problem? You made zero contact with the boy.  You did not engage him in conversation nor did you bother to watch what he was doing.  He couldn't have been more than 3 or 4 years old; isn't that a little young to be looking after himself?

Normally, I don't give a rip if you want to be neglectful.  Honestly, it's not my business.  Until it is.  And it was, today.

You see, while you were busy not doing your job as a parent, your boy was poking at my little girl's ride (her Dream Smart Trike).  And even though I tried to gently persuade him not to touch it, he continued.

And even that wouldn't have been a problem, except that he was poking his dirty boy finger into my little girl's sippy cup straw.  And he had an inch-long strand of lime green snot extending from his nostril to his upper lip.  But of course, you didn't notice because you never bothered to look at him up until this point.

I don't want my kid to get sick.  It's bad enough that little children are generally more vulnerable to viruses, and become all the more susceptible due to their own penchant for putting random stuff into their mouths.  Little L doesn't need your kid contaminating her water with his snotty finger on this hot, sunny day.

And since your boy is just a kid, I cannot hold him at fault for this.  His brain isn't yet fully developed, and he is probably just curious.  You, however, are the adult.  You are responsible.  And you should have watched your kid and not allowed him to touch someone else's property in the first place.  That I had to firmly set boundaries for him and ask him to stop was completely unacceptable; I shouldn't have to do your job, you negligent piss-poor excuse of a guardian.

By the time you called him to stop, he had already stopped because I had sternly told him to stop.  But by this time, the damage had already been done.  The sippy cup was no longer usable by my thirsty little toddler, because of your failure to fulfill your role as a parent.  And so we had to go home in the hot, hot sun without my little girl having any water to drink.

Unfortunately, people like you don't really learn.  You didn't offer much in the way of an apology.  In fact, you didn't bother to make eye contact, and you didn't even seem to think that there was anything wrong with this scenario.  Your only order, which you barked to your kid, was for him to stop touching our stuff because we didn't want him to touch them.  You have no right to call yourself a parent.  You have no right to care for this boy.

I hope your little boy's virus mutates, and that you end up getting his snotty cold.  I hope it becomes a horrible congested mess of a cold that knocks you on your back and keeps you from sleeping for two weeks.  I hope that the next parent and kid who gets affected by your negligence is far less gracious than I, and I hope that you reap every possible negative consequence for your actions.

May you never bump into me again, because next time I won't be so nice.  You have been warned.

Mrs. Loquacious


PS - Here's Little L swinging happily today.  Before this incident.



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