I'll tell you who. Those three brats at the jumpy castle place yesterday. They started fighting. Like pushing, then slapping. Two boys and a girl. I looked around, searching for their parent, who was sure to come running. All I saw was rubber-necking parents, slightly interested in the increasing developments. No one was going to do anything, so I jumped between the bastards when one of the boys slapped the girl. "Stop!" I yelled with authority. The little bastards ran off. I felt glad that I did something, but incredibly uncomfortable in having to do so. And I started to get a little annoyed with the other parents, but then, I didn't step in until I did. Maybe they were as hesitant as I. Maybe when they saw the slap, they were just about to do something, but I was closer. I'm gonna go with that one.
Speaking of parenting, it's fucking hard. At the jumpy castle place, how much should I helicopter and how much should I let him be? I basically followed him to where he was going and played with my phone in that area, making sure I could see him if he came out. The problem with this and other bumpy castle places is that you can't really see into the bounce castles. The old school ones, the big squares, you could easily see every bit. Not these new fangled ones. If I didn't know where he was, it'd be fucking impossible to find him. And god knows you can't go into one. So I make sure I at least know which he is in. I don't just sit in the parent area and watch tv.
This little boy of mine is so independent. He has his own agenda and if I don't like it, tough, he's doing it anyways. Thankfully I am bigger and stronger than him. I know it is good that he is asserting his own ideas and desires, but it makes everything a discussion. One of my catchphrases is "This is not a discussion." He has his points neatly arranged in a PowerPoint demonstration. He puts his suit on. He has all of his evidence in baggies, all lined up and lettered. No! I'm not falling into his trap again! It's frustrating not knowing how much I should argue, or cave, or just carry out my plan.
I am doing my best, and I know that I am doing a good job and every parent makes mistakes, but I am always wondering, "is this the thing that sends him to therapy later?" Though my parenting style is much closer to my father's and I hardly ever talk about him in therapy. Maybe I'm doing alright.