A Mommy Story

We were at the local mall play area the other day, letting Cordy blow off some steam and run like a mad toddler. She doesn’t really play with other kids – she just likes to run around and around and around the play area. As long as she’s having fun, I’m OK with it.

There was another little girl I noticed in the play area. A very pretty little girl, with dark skin and dark curly hair, and maybe three or four years old. I watched her play a little while watching Cordy also. Her grandmother was sitting about 10 feet from me, half-ignoring the little girl’s requests to watch her perform each stunt she attempted.

But then I watched this little girl’s grandmother yank her off one of the climbing toys and drag her to the bench. The grandmother was hissing, “That’s it. We’re leaving. I’m never bringing you back here ever again!”

The little girl, of course, was crying at having been abruptly pulled from her play and forcefully sat on the bench. I turned my head away from the scene, until I heard the sickening sharp smack! sound.

“Stop it and get your shoes on!” Smack! The grandmother had just smacked the little girl on her bare leg again. This just made the little girl cry harder and try to push her grandmother away from her, resisting the efforts to get her shoes on. At this point I was across the play area from Aaron, but we locked eyes, and it was clear we were both focused on this domestic scene.

Finally the grandmother crammed the shoes on the little girl. The little girl continued crying, with the grandmother yelling at her, “You shut up right now! Just shut up!” She smacked the little girl on the leg one more time, then dragged her out of the play area, saying, “I don’t think I like you anymore! I’m never taking you out to play again.”

What was the little girl’s crime that deserved such a punishment, you ask? She slid down the hard foam slide backwards, which her grandmother told her not to do. She did it safely, and honestly it’s a very short slide, so she wouldn’t have been hurt anyway. But that single transgression led to the grandmother telling the little girl that she didn’t like her anymore, hitting her, and roughly dragging her away from her playtime.

Aaron and I looked at each other again after she left. We were both stunned, and didn’t know how to react in a situation like that. We talked about it afterwards, and agreed that we didn’t understand what the poor little girl did that was so bad to deserve that treatment.

Looking back, I wonder if I should have stepped in or said something? The woman was in such a fury that I was a little scared of her myself. But what could I have done? Reporting her would have been a little extreme – she was smacking the girl on the leg (and I know that a leg slap can produce a very loud sound for little effort), but she didn’t hit her in the face or with a closed hand. At what point am I a concerned member of society or an overbearing busybody interfering in the business of others?

I know that I learned my own parenting lesson that day. My own views on raising a child were reaffirmed watching that scene. The punishment should always fit the crime, and I saw nothing that little girl did to deserve the punishment she got. Plus, I am even more determined to never talk to my daughter like that woman talked to her granddaughter. Seeing the pure confusion, terror and sadness in that little girl’s face…well, it’s something that will stick with me for a long time.

I can only hope the little girl has loving parents that would never treat her that way, and hopefully parents that will discover how grandma treats their daughter and forbid her from spending time alone with that little girl ever again.