Today I’ve been inches away from walking up to a woman and informing her that if her child was the type of brat who has a tendency to push, kick and bite other children at the playgym she should get of her fat arse and supervise him rather than sit at a table gossiping with her friend. I didn’t do it of course, but I’m convinced the world would be a better place if I had done.
It amazes me how many parents just leave their toddlers to roam wild at the playgym. I’m often the only adult in the play area itself, and as such tend to have a nagging thought that I should be policing the place somehow. I also tend to attract a certain type of little girl or boy who keeps insisting I play with them and often find it quite difficult to get rid of them before their mother charges up and accuses me of paedophilia (ok, so I’m paranoid, but a man defiantly feels conspicuous and out of place at such places on a weekday). Today’s limpet was a three-year-old called Holly. We ended up in a weird triangle - I wanted to play with Amy, Amy wanted to play with Holly, and Holly wanted to play with me. Everyone was doing their level best to ignore their suitor whilst attempting to force their presence on their chosen playmate.
The stalemate was eventually broken when Holly went home. The rest of the afternoon was spent in an enjoyable game of “here comes the Tickle Monster”, with Amy and I taking turns to take the title role.
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