Mr. Gumball...

     "AHHH! Mr. Gumball is here!" I quickly surveyed the mall playground as my three year old clung to my leg in serious angst. A small head of thick, dark hair bounced behind the plastic turtle. When the owner of the little head popped up, I recognized him immediately.

     A few days before, he had terrorized the playground with his rough-housing and tackling. Let me interject here to say that he was just being a 2 (or maybe 3) yr old boy. Boys play rough. They wrestle. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the way he played earlier in the week- except that nearly all of the other children on the playground were frilly Princesses. The Princesses had decided as a group that they should be afraid of him, and he rose up to the occasion. Their screams urged him to growl like a monster. Their running brought on chasing. You get the point.

     As the young boy scared the poor Princesses, a girl began to pick on her little brother, calling him "Mr. Gumball." I have no idea where it came from, but it seemed to really get under his skin. (NOTE: Mr. Gumball was not the boy running amuck amongst the Princesses.) Of course, the girl's mother told her to stop, but she kept taunting. Somewhere in the chaos, Courtney assumed the small monster boy's name was Mr. Gumball- and, so, we come to our encounter with "Mr. Gumball' at the playground today.

     I encouraged her to play. She reluctantly ran around the playground with one eye on the slide and one eye on Mr. Gumball. He was at his rough antics again- only this time he had several boys to play with. He obviously made her nervous, so I asked if she wanted to leave. She quickly put on her shoes and headed for the exit. I started to put Matthew into the stroller and turned to see where she was. Mr.Gumball had her by the arm and was trying to pull her back into the playground to play. She jerked away and ran to me, almost in tears. We started walking away. The quicker, the better! I thought. I knew that if we stayed much longer I would surely have a meltdown on my hands.

     As we walked, I listened as Courtney played out a hypothetical conflict to herself. "If Mr. Gumball comes up to me, I just tell him, 'NO!NO! Mr.Gumball! Go AWAY!!' Then he will just GO AWAY and I can play. And if he comes up again..." and so it went on and on. What she'd do if she ran into him again. He'd better watch his back. He'd be sorry. She'd give him a piece of her mind...

     I laughed quietly to myself (because if I had laughed out loud I would have had to explain why I was laughing- and who wants that when we're all tired and hungry?). I couldn't help but think of how often I've done the exact same thing: "Oh, if that guy were to stop and get out of his car, he'd be sorry he ever cut me off! I'd tell him a thing or two!" Or, "If she ever says something like that again I'll punch her in the nose!" Of course, when those situations come up I rarely actually execute my plan. It made me wonder what she'll actually do if Mr. Gumball comes back to the playground? Will she stand up and tell him no? Band with the other Princesses in fear? Start a little Princess riot and conquer the playground for Princesses everywhere? Or will we just happen to go shopping as soon as he enters? I suppose we'll find out soon enough!