If another adult “disciplines” your kid, the right response is embarassment — you are raising a little fucker who did something wrong. Just apologize and then shut your mouth.
Save your frustration for when you get home and confront your little bastard.
No adult goes out of their way to give shit to a stranger’s child. And even if they do, all the kid has to do is walk away.
I’m not talking about adults assaulting children or pedophiles for fuck’s sake. I’m talking about how your kid interacts in society — and kids should be free to test out their world and move as much as their maturity will allow.
That means they are going to run into adults who are going to set them straight. Some of those adults will be completely fucking wrong and a few may be out of their minds. Your kids should treat them the way we treat all people who act crazy — smile and walk away. Most of the time, that adult is right, and your kid fucked up.
What the fuck happened to “it’s take a village” to raise a child? When did these goddamn douchebag parents acquire the “right” to get all butt-hurt because you told their little shit to stop screaming in your ear.
If you ever feel like saying: “You can’t talk to my kid that way,” suppress that feeling. Cram it into the dark and scary place where you hide all your stupid instincts that would land you in jail — or a duel.
I was reminded of this when I was still able to play tennis at the Third World Club. There were 6 or 7 grown men. Some playing, some drinking. I was just heckling.
There’s 32 courts, almost all of them were empty. These 3 little pre-teen barefoot boys in bathing suits wondered over from the pool. Out of 30+ open courts, they walked to the court exactly next to ours and started smacking shit into the fence, just a few feet from our heads.
Clearly they were bored and trying to entertain themselves by harassing us.
My friends said a few words, and the harassment got worse. “You shut up and go somewhere else,” the biggest of the kids said.
I popped off the bench and started a Frankenstein stalk.
“Ohh don’t do that,” these other suppossed men said. “You are going to get into trouble.”
Fuck that. Those little shits started running. I kept stalking and sort of talking.
“Hey, who the hell do you think you are? Where are your parents. I want to meet your parents right now.”
One finally stopped and turned toward me. The other two ran like the cowards they are.
It was tough to be clear through the anger and clenched teeth.
“We are grown-ass men. You want to talk to us that way? I will treat you like an adult and kick your ass….”
Point finger and step forward. “You DO NOT talk to us that way.”
“Yes sir,” he said. Well that surprised the shit out of me. I was expecting more smart-assiness. We were about 20-feet apart and neither of us was anxious to close that gap.
“That’s right,” I said. “You have 30 courts to pick from — pick one far away. You got it.”
“Yes sir,” he said.
You know that false feeling like you won something? I was full of it.
“We’ve never seen you move that fast,” my so-called friends said. We all briefly celebrated our rightful role as men — leaders among boys.
20 minutes later a high pitched voice called from 100-feet across the club.
“Goodbye… Goodbye.” It had the mocking tone of a 12-year-old who needs to learn how to leave others alone.
I didn’t pop up and Frankenstein stalk that smart ass. I crammed down that instinct to the deep dark place I hide all my bullshit that’s just not worth pursuing… it didn’t work the first time; why try it again?
But if I had followed that kid out to the parking lot, his parents should apologize. And when they get home, they should remind that little shit that harassing adults is a good way to get your “ass kicked” (emotionally).