dirty underwear

I was at the park last week with two of the girls I watch. It's our new haunt. Its a nice park. Its pretty big, there's a giant wooden structure thats kind of like a maze with lots of turns and tunnels and stairs and towers to run around and hide in. Always lots of kids there. As I was watching the girls chase each other around, I found I was laughing to myself at this absurd game that had developed before me among a group of young boys, probably all around 5-7 years old. They were playing 'keep away from the soiled underwear'. Such a boy game. Can you imagine a group of six year old girls, picking up pooey underwear with a stick and tossing it at one another?! Anyway, with my twisted sense of humor, I found it mildly amusing, but also at the same time, was slightly disturbed that out of the whole lot of them, not a single one of them had a parent that had caught onto the fun of the hour. I sat and took in their wildness for a bit, thought about hunting down a parent, but didn't.

Eventually a couple moms strolled onto the scene together. As it hit them that their children were battling with feces, all hell broke loose. The severe and lengthy lecture that then took place in front of many was probably one to be remembered well into adulthood. The little boys all standing still, staring down at the ground, as they were repeatedly scolded and shamed for essentially 'being boys'. I found it interesting that these mothers unleashed such an intense and critical wave of guilt and shame on their young children, when they are the ones who were guilty of leaving them unsupervised for soo long?! Something about the whole thing seemed bassackwards. As much as I despise all my grown-up responsibilities these days, I'm glad I don't have to navigate the confusing waters of being a kid. I felt kind of bad for those silly boys.