That Kid

Our family was out at our local park and ran into that kid. You know the one. The kid who is loud and obnoxious and thinks she rules the playground. That kid also had that mom, the mom who I am pretty sure was there the whole time but who most certainly wasn't supervising that kid of hers at all. As soon as we walked into the park, I spotted that kid right away. Marcus hadn't even climbed onto his new bike when that kid was on top of him asking if she could ride his bike. She continued to hound Marcus and me about riding the bike the entire time we were there.

That kid did her best to boss my kids around and my kids finally put their love of the word "no" to use. I guess I got a little too close because then that kid started firing questions at me. She wanted to know my name. I asked hers. She said, "Nice to meet you! Give me a call sometime!" which was just hilarious. That kid told me she was four and asked me how old Marcus and Will were. Then that kid hit me with some questions that I just wasn't expecting from a four year old.

Her: Is this your son?
Me: Yep.
Her: How can he be your son? He's black and you're white.
Me: No, he's Guatemalan.
Her: No, he's black.
Me: No, he's Guatemalan.
Her: You're white.
Me: Yes I am.

I think I must have had her thoroughly confused enough to get her to move on to the next thing. I overheard her ask Marcus at one point he if could speak English and then seemed to retract her thought when she realized that she had been talking with him in English while they played.

Two points to me for handling the invasive questions in a way I think was proper. And a point for that kid for making such in depth observations for a four year old.