We went to a children’s museum this weekend, a place where Max feels really comfortable. There’s a cute little outdoor area with a basin where you can push boats around, and Max can happily hang there for a good hour.
There were a couple of other kids nearby playing with this little fishing rod where you could catch some plastic fish. There was a hook at the end of the rod. Not a sharp hook, by any means, but still a metal hook. One of the kids ran over to the boat basin Max was at and started dunking the rod in there.
“Um, please don’t, it has a hook,” I said, and he ran off. His mother, who was sitting nearby on a bench and chatting on her cell, didn’t even notice.
A few minutes later, he came back and did it again. And now, I was m-a-d. The mom was off the phone by this point. “WOULD YOU PLEASE TELL YOUR CHILD TO NOT PLAY WITH THE ROD OVER HERE, IT HAS A HOOK!” I said.
She looked a little taken aback.
What I didn’t say was that Max does not have the wherewithal to know to stay away from a rod with a hook. Or that Max does not have the reflexes to push something like that away from his face.
So I must have seemed a little PsychoMom.
I surprise myself with outbursts like these, though I can’t say I don’t know where they come from. I do: When it comes to keeping Max safe, I have no boundaries.
Any of you have a recent PsychoMom or PsychoDad episode?!
Ellen blogs daily at Love That Max.