I’ve found that the most dangerous kind of parent is one who never accepts their child has made a mistake, let alone deliberately done anything wrong.
If they tell you that, they’re lying to you, their child, and yes, themselves.
But that’s not me.
I readily accept when my son has been a menace to society.
I’m a strong believer in accepting responsibility, apologizing to the aggrieved party, and trying not to do it again. (You know, just generally avoiding a-holeish behavior.)
But there was one time at daycare when I was compelled to go full Elle Woods on my son’s behalf in response to an unfair accusation.
And by Elle Woods I mean I got him off on a rogue technicality.
“He chopped off Abby’s ponytail”
My son, aged about three, was in the Toddler’s room at the local daycare center.
He generally played with a little cherub named Abby.
This was back in the day before daycare apps, so it was a surprise to me when I was spoken to quietly at one pick-up about an ‘incident.’
“He chopped off Abby’s ponytail!” I was told by a carer, who gestured to the little angel, sitting there with a perfectly neat (in my opinion) bob.
The carer was taking it very seriously. And of course, it was serious. If I’d been Abby’s mom, I would have genuinely mourned the loss of that curly mass. And being worried about what could have gone wrong with a sharp instrument.
So, scissor safety and personal boundaries needed to be reinforced, and I duly reassured the staff that would happen.
“But whose fault was it really?”
As we packed up to go home, I began thinking… but how did he get ahold of scissors sharp enough to cut through Abby’s thick hair?
Aren’t they using safety scissors with toddlers?
I casually eyed the craft table and confirmed they were using the kind that can barely cut paper.
Instinctively, I was impressed by my son’s dexterity to be able to chop off an entire ponytail with those, but then I quickly pulled my thoughts back to my continuing deductions.
It was impossible, I concluded. He must have got ahold of some adult scissors.
Nonchalantly I asked, “Did he use these paper scissors? I can’t believe he managed to cut through Abby’s hair! And so quickly, without anyone noticing! Abby must have been sitting very still.”
I was asking leading questions, and being very passive-aggressive about it.
But when one of the center’s selling points was that they have one carer to four kids, I was genuinely curious to know how the incident, which didn’t happen in a split second, had happened.
“He used the adult scissors”
Finally, one of the younger carers came over and semi-whispered, “He used the scissors left by the printer,” in the corner of the room.
I knew it. ADULT SCISSORS.
On our way out, I stopped by the director’s office to sign the incident report. I told her my safety/adult scissors theory, coupled with my (momentary lack of) supervision theory, and asserted that it if these factors hadn’t been present, Abby wouldn’t now be a kilo lighter without her ponytail.
“He’s innocent, your Honour,” (I said in my head).
But I did raise those safety concerns like a properly concerned parent, and the director had to concede it was an “oversight” to leave the scissors by the printer, and for the carer to miss the unceremonious cutting.
I mean, really, any older I wouldn’t have made those observations – but at three?
I called Abby’s mom that night to apologize. She sounded disappointed about Abby’s hair but agreed it was concerning that it all happened in the first place.
When I asked my son why he was motivated to do what he did, he shrugged and wouldn’t make eye contact.
I wish I could tell you he understood and took full responsibility for hacking at his friend’s hair, and I was so proud of his maturity.
But that didn’t happen.
I was just glad he didn’t commit a crime of opportunity like that again.
I rest my case.
