I live in what some would term a hoity-toity area.
Lots of very prim and proper yoga-practicin’ ladies with perfect hair and Bugaboo strollers. They tend to have roughly the same type of hair style, roughly the same clothes, and roughly the same manerisms. I don’t think most of them actually come from here, but there’s more of them than me.
Erm, it’s safe to say that I don’t really fit in all that well. I’m a little too opinionated, a little too heavy, and I’ve never been the cookie-cutter type.
The other day I took my kids to the park nearest our house, and it was surprisingly empty.
Oh sure, there was one other mom (or maybe nanny, because she sure was chipper with that little boy) with a boy a bit younger than my daughter, but that was about it other than some people playing on the basketball courts on the other side.
So when my daughter wanted to climb UP the slide instead of going on top of the play equipment in the traditional manner, I let her. I figured that since there was no one else on the play structure other than her, it wasn’t a big deal. If there had been other children on the structure, I probably wouldn’t have allowed it.
Anyhoo, up she went on the slippery slide, with my hand hovering protectively over her back, but not touching it because I want her to do it by herself, if possible. When she reached the top, she slid back down with a happy screech.
The other little boy saw my daughter do this, and asked his mom/nanny if he could go up the slide as well.
“Oh no, honey,” she said in a voice loud enough for me to hear and dripping with something akin to condescension. “There are RULES about climbing up the slide. We don’t do things like that.” And she primly took him to an entirely different section of the playground.
I looked around to see where the rules prohibiting slide climbing were posted.
There weren’t any.
I don’t really think of myself as a rebel. But apparently I am.