Call Me A Helicopter Parent, But I Will Always Intervene In This Situation
And I think everyone else should, too
My son recently had his fifth birthday party at a farm. The day was a 5-year-old’s dream, complete with a giant bounce house, a tractor ride, and a giant haystack to climb and jump off of.
The weather was perfect—a bright blue sky, warm sunshine, and a slightly cool breeze blowing in the scent of farm-fresh apple cider donuts. It was the perfect day.
Get the girls
The perfect day, that is, until one little girl approached me and told me that some of the boys were grabbing and pushing in the bounce house. I asked the kids to all play a little more carefully so no one got hurt. Over the next few minutes, two more girls let me know the same thing. And then I heard it.
A low chant, from a small voice.
“Get the girls! Get the girls!”
Without hesitation, I pushed the top half of myself into the opening of the bounce house and gently asked that we not play that game anymore. That the girls didn’t want to. Two seconds later, I heard it again. This time, I wasn’t quite as gentle, letting the offending boy know, in no uncertain terms, that we would not be playing “Get the girls.”