Why do we make the kids play together at family functions?
Inevitably, they are of different ages so common interests would be nil. If they’re too young, you could either get blank stares or a bunch of squawking. Throw in parents with different disciplinary styles and you have multiple reasons to drink.
So, this past weekend we had the traditional family slo-pitch tourney.Â Our familyÂ (mostly his actually – I’m just there by default) were defending champs two years running. Needless to say, some pride was at stake.
Did I get a homerun or make some killer plays? Well, I have an aversion to outdoor physical activity. Don’t get me wrong. I am not a lazy slob. It’s just that my idea of exercise is running to the bar for last call. I’m an awesome cheerleader though.
Unfortunately, age and the previous night’s imbibing caught up with our crew. We did not three-peat. But, we were hardly disappointed. An early exit meant that we could spend the rest of the day back at the farmhouse eating and drinking.
So, weÂ tried to corral the little ones together. Not only was this important for photo ops, but keeping them in one spot made for easier tracking.
Out of the grandkids who were present, my sister-in-law’s two boys were closest to my Boo-Boo’s age. F has a couple of years on him, but his younger brother, C, is only a few months older than my son.
Since I don’t have my son in daycare, I’m always concerned with how he interacts with other kids. He is completely fine with other adults and my sister’s kids. But, I always worry about how he would handle different situations and personalities.
My sister-in-law’s kids are a little rambunctious. Not that there’sanything wrong with that but my son is pretty laid back and happy-go-lucky.
Well, when C was paired up with Boo-Boo, he proceeded to push him around. I don’t believe in disciplining other people’s kids. But, I just said “No” firmly and tried to separate them. Then, C took a truck and hit my baby on the head!
OK. I agree in that old adage, “Boys will be boys”, to a certain extent. F does bully C mercilessly. So, my son was apparently next in line. But, NOBODY hits my child. Luckily, C’s father was there to give him a proper admonishment.
To his credit, my son didn’t cry, freak out, or blink an eye. How very Zen of him.
He kept that truck for himself the rest of the time we were there. In fact, he was an absolute angel.
C, on the other hand…
* photo courtesy of Flickr