Poseidon and I have our house on the market, and sometimes we have to make scarce at the drop of a hat when the realtor wants to show our property to prospective buyers. A few months ago, a last minute call from the realtor had me scurrying out of the house with a book, in route to the park just a few minutes from our house.
This park is next to an elementary school, and it was well after school hours, but there were many children running around playing and making new friends while the parents formed little cliques of their own discussing gymnastic instructors, dance classes, and swim meets and how well his/her tot is excelling in each of these sports/hobbies.
Away from the parental groupings in the park, I sat reading on a bench by myself, between the swing set and the adjacent tennis court, passing the time until I could go back to my house. I looked up and directly across the playground from me was a man on bench, texting. I didn't see children with him, or near him, just an observation I made.
Nearly 15 minutes later, I glanced up and the man was still texting, but this time a little girl, all of 4 years old (I'm guessing), approached him saying, "Daddy, come and see my castle." She had been building a sandcastle in the large sandbox. He said something to her I couldn't hear, but I did notice that he hadn't even looked up from his texting while he spoke to her. The little girl waited for him to view her architectural masterpiece (I'm sure to her it was a masterpiece). Nope. Nothing. Dad still texting. Little girl walks back to her work. I think I will name her "Sally." I feel much empathy toward Sally.
Just minutes later, I glance up at the poor might-as-well-be-an-orphan Sally and another little girl (I'll call her "Mary") was trying to play with Sally. Sally, who was sitting on her knees playing in the sand with her bucket, purposely turned he body away from Mary without saying a word. Mary stood around a bit longer, hoping to make a friend to play with. I suppose she finally took Sally's snub as a hint. I feel much empathy toward Mary.
I am guessing that Mary desperately wanted to make a new friend because moments later she tried again with the evasive Sally by plopping down in the sand next to her. This is when the drama/tragedy commenced. Sally stood up, got in Mary's face and yelled, "LEAVE ME ALONE, AND I'M NOT KIDDING!!!" I honestly thought my heart would beat out of my chest because the anger in this little tiny person was so intense, it was frightening.
Now I look up at quick-as-lightening-texter Daddy to see his reaction. His head turned toward her direction, still texting, and I swear he never took his eyes from his iPhone and turned his head right back down. Sally stomped off (literally) to another area of the park. Daddy does nothing, oh, wait, I take that back. He is doing something. Texting. Poor little Mary, ran to her parents, who were watching the creepy scene in the park sandbox play out. They whispered something consoling to her, and she seemed to relax. You tried little Mary, it isn't your fault.
I'm not a parent, but I am a human being, and was/am someones daughter, and a child myself once (oh, oh, and I've been in therapy of one form or another my entire adult life so I can spot a wow-you-are-going-to-be-once-screwed-up-puppy-if-you-don't-get-help-now tot when I see one) so I'm more than a little concerned about Sally. The amount of anger in that 4 year old little girl was scary, appalling, and unacceptable.
Why is this my business? Because I still walk on this planet, and Sally is just one more little creature brought into the fold by selfish mooncalves who are too lazy to parent and set boundaries or pay the poor little troll any attention while she is creating something in the park; so, it is my business because in just a few short years, Sally will be in some newspaper or on TV and/or behind bars because she will have done something "very wrong" because she didn't know it was wrong or have any reliable concept of how to live socially with others, and she is too full of rage at having been ignored during the most important teachable years of her life, and that "something very wrong" could be committed against me, those I cherish, or any other hapless victim in or out of the park. Ah, yes, but she can text like the dickens.
--Fortuitous Observer
