This place should be called: The Please Don’t Touch Me Museum...or better yet, The Germ Factory. Catherine and I both get sick within 24hrs. of every visit…but it’s her favorite place in the world so I knowingly let down the face mask and willingly enter this petri dish of fun and subject myself to a myriad of germs.
A large majority of people visiting this place seem like a control group offering me the opportunity to gaze into the future… and see why adults are the way they are. It’s like social psychology on steroids!
They could sell security footage here and make a fortune.
Every trip is part beautiful exploration & discovery - part “P90X-level” exercises in restraint. Yesterday, I watched this little “alpha male” rip a rubber ducky right out of Catherine’s hands and then push her aside. I wanted to take this kid’s father by the pony tail and quietly suggest that he correct his son’s behavior and apologize to my daughter….but I know that I won’t always be there and that it’s important for her to see how she navigates through situations like this on her own. So far, much of fatherhood seems to be made up of moments where I’m rapidly processing, deliberating and considering impacts of a.) Allowing her to naturally develop instincts or b.) Manage and protect.
I left well-enough alone and let the situation play out….although I was ready to spring into action if little Ike Turner touched her again. All I really did was acknowledge what happened to her (loudly enough for anyone within a 5’ radius to hear) as unacceptable and “not nice”. I then told her that “…we don’t want to play with, or near, people like that” and moved on.
The last thing I ever want is a confrontation but I do want to address unacceptable and potentially violent behavior so that #1-she is removed from any dangerous situation and #2- she doesn’t interpret my silence as acceptance of inappropriate behavior.