Chatting with some parents at the park I notice E walking over to greet another child sitting in his stroller. Aaaw how cute I think, he’s going to say hi. E then raises his hand and slaps the hell out of the little kid. The slapee’s mom rushes over to push E back saying something like “I’ll let daddy take care of you until you hit my child.” This seems totally reasonable and understandable. If I’d known he was going to whack your kid I would have intervened I promise. The other kid was 2.5 to E’s 13 months so I figured she must be able to defend herself.
Of course later that evening this triggered a novella of internal dialogue about how did I raise an abuser? Where did this violence come from? Fast forward a few days later and daycare tells me “he’s been hitting other kids.” I promise them that I’m working on it and I don’t know where he got it. Inner voice: well there was that high five game you were trying last week.
Sob. Well at least he’s not biting.
Uh-oh. He’ll probably be biting next week.