Weekly Writing Challenge: Threes

I’ll be using the three photos I posted for the Weekly Photo Challenge to write a post about the playground depicted in these photos.

My son goes every day in the afternoon to play in the neighborhood playground. Today when he was playing there and trying to build a volcano out of the sand, there were two girls there who were trying to break it. Now my little one has a short fuse and he started getting angry at them. Along comes the grandmother of the two girls to stop him and she also came under fire. The grandmother immediately turned to my son’s nanny who was with him and started admonishing his parents i.e. us for not teaching their son any manners.

Now I am not trying to defend him or say that he did the right thing but when other parents start being judgmental it really gets to me. The little boy did a wrong thing but does it mean that his parents are not teaching him anything and are completely useless? How can anyone make such sweeping statements when they have never even met the people they are commenting on?

What about us as adults? We make mistakes all the time. Should our ancestors take the blame for each and every mistake that we make?

I have punished my son for being rude to the lady and told him that he cannot go to the park for two days, but it really made me feel sad that people have to jump to conclusions straight away. I try my best to educate my son about what is right and wrong and I realize that he will make mistakes sometimes but that doesn’t make us bad parents. People forget when they themselves were parents and their children did something wrong.

On a brighter note my son’s teacher told me that he stood up in front of the class and told them a story and that he was very coherent and confident. I asked him about it and he told me that it was Jack and the Beanstalk which is his favorite story these days. Well at least I must be doing something right as a parent.

Weekly Writing Challenge: Threes

  1. Weekly Photo Challenge: Abandoned, 03.03.14 | Markie’s Daily Blog
  2. The More | field of thorns
  3. Dreams Insult My Intelligence | Bumblepuppies
  4. Pillow talk | Never Stationary
  5. stone | FamousFeline
  6. Smile | The Seeker’s Dungeon
  7. Threes: Haikus from Pictures! | Blue Loft
  8. Winter Storm Titan Haikus | Fish Of Gold
  9. A Tribute to my Mum – the Unbeatable Woman | Dreams Will Catch You
  10. Confession About My Boy Band Obsession | Embracing the Journey
  11. Weekly Writing Challenge: Threes – Tori Sinks with the Sun | Just Be V
  12. Gone with the Waves | Artfully Aspiring
  13. It’s In The Lost & Found | Lead us from the Unreal to the Real
  14. Spring’s here! | Scent of Rina
  15. Haiku X 3 | Musings of a Soul Eclectic
  16. Do You Have Silver Ties? | Home’s Cool!
  17. Friends far away | Nagoonberry
  18. House in three photos! | Scrapydodog
  19. Weekly Writing Challenge: Threes – Long walks and dark chocolate
  20. The Road Maps of Life | Lifestyle | WANGSGARD
  21. If anybody asks, you didn’t see me. | Trucker Turning Write
  22. Coach Athlete | The Wind Beneath Their Arms
  23. Weekly Writing Challenge: Threes~~Sheila’s Poem |
  24. Blue Boredom Tape Men: Battle of the Pepsi graveyard | The Bohemian Rock Star’s “Untitled Project”
  25. Natasha’s Challenge | Mary J Melange
  26. abandoned, broken, and dreaming | memoirs of an unremarkable man
  27. The Simple Pleasures | Outmanned
  28. Iditarod Trail Invitational | pencil me in
  29. Innermission | The Shady Tree
  30. A Tale of Two Worlds | Victoria.K.Gallagher
  31. Seven Icicles, Part One | Stealing All the Sevens
  32. Inspiration of a pocket watch | live simple
  33. Lady By The Lake — 3 Images /1 Story | eyevpointofview
  34. Weekly Writing Challenge: Threes (Skulduggery) | Reflections and Nightmares- Irene A Waters (writer and memoirist)

The Playground Bully

Describe the last time you were surprised by the intensity of a feeling you had about something.

My son and I had been invited to a birthday party. There were a few games inside the hall and then the children could go out in the grounds to play. The older children started playing cricket and my son headed for the playground.

He had spotted a “spout” as he called it from the “Incy Wincy Spider” nursery rhyme, one of those tube slides that you find in a lot of playgrounds. He happily went towards it. There was a cute little girl my son’s age playing nearby while her nanny watched her.

“Hello!” said my son to the little girl smiling sweetly.

“Oh, you’re just a baby!” replied the girl losing all her cuteness.

“I’m not a baby!” said my son and started crying.

Then it was that moment when in cartoons one of the characters turns into a lion snarling at the inhumane human while protecting the little cub. I was that lion and I just wanted to smack that girl for making my little darling cry. It really hurt to see those big tears rolling down his cheeks. Somehow I felt even worse than when he falls down and hurts himself. This was different. Another child had hurt his feelings deliberately and without any reason.

“He’s not a baby!” I said glaring at the girl and her nanny who was least interested in the conversation.

I tried to console my son but he was inconsolable. He tells me several times in the day that he’s my cutest baby in the world but when the little girl called him a baby it was the biggest insult for him. I diverted his attention to the slide and after five long minutes he stopped crying. He didn’t attempt to talk to the girl again.

To this day when we go that playground I’m reminded of this incident and am apprehensive about my son playing there but apparently he has forgotten and doesn’t mind playing there.

Daily Prompt: Intense

  1. Why does my dog hump other people/dogs? | We Live In A Flat
  2. False Labour Pains
  3. Autumn colours (Intense) | photo potpourri
  4. Rural Tourism in Russia. Accordion player | Rural Tourism in Russia
  5. Cat in the window | Bright Moments Catcher
  6. A year of writing and a birthday | Now Have At It!
  7. Cooking fish | Bright Moments Catcher
  8. That’s a Hard Limit | submissivelysecret
  9. Balalaika | Nature Activities
  10. Intense, like no other | Never Stationary
  11. Daily Prompt: Intense! | Under the Monkey Tree
  12. Daily Prompt: Intense! | Awl and Scribe
  13. intensity huh? | wannabepoet
  14. The Real Me | Life Confusions
  15. Intense | The Magic Black Book
  16. Horse Hill | It’s a wonderful F’N life
  17. Stolen bests | shame
  18. Daily Prompt: Intense! | My Atheist Blog
  19. Intense care : Need of the hour | Processing the life
  20. intense | yi-ching lin photography
  21. Intensity – A very short post | Neva Samaki
  22. My Shampoo Tried to Kill Me | Get Write Down To It
  23. Transformation | crookedeyebrows
  24. The First Experience of an American in a Russian Banya | Rural Tourism in Russia
  25. Escalator Etiquette | The verbal hedge
  26. Separation Anxiety | Tales of a slightly stressed Mother!
  27. Daily Prompt Intense: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/11/05/daily-prompt-intense/ | Kawanee’s Korner
  28. Intensity of feeling? The end of WordPress.com | RPMAS
  29. Intense Sunset | Misifusa’s Blog
  30. Daily Prompt: Intense! | Basically Beyond Basic
  31. Daily Prompt: Intense | The Temenos Journal
  32. Daily Prompt: Intense | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
  33. intense | sarahscapes
  34. 211. Intensity Over Abortion | Barely Right of Center
  35. No rest 4 the weary | not4faintheartsblog
  36. Daily Prompt: Intense November 2013 ~ NaBloPoMo ~ #4 « Mama Bear Musings
  37. Daily Prompt: Grawr! | One Starving Activist
  38. NO!vember | I Hope You’re Taking Notes
  39. DP Challenge: One Intense Pit Bull « Morning Pages
  40. André from Holland | Deadline – An intense experience
  41. Intense | Lunatic Writing
  42. I Didn’t Use To Be A Sobber | Momma Roars
  43. Too Intense: I Think Not! | Dear Yolandi
  44. BLACK | JC Bride ~
  45. Intensity? | Fruit Salad
  46. Why so intense, Surfer Rob? | Rob’s Surf Report
  47. INTENSE! | thoughts and entanglements
  48. Intensity at its acme? | Eye of Lynx
  49. Those intervals between days | tjbarkerseattle
  50. Jupiter Rising | Just Visiting This Planet
  51. Intensity… | Haiku By Ku
  52. Batman should not be the only one fighting crime | MC’s Whispers
  53. I’m in tears | Life is great
  54. Daily Prompt: Life Is Intense | My Daily Prompt Blog
  55. The Stare Down……. | The Land Slide Photography
  56. The Intense Joy | Flowers and Breezes
  57. Unavailable | Kansa Muse
  58. Beans on toast and a woolly jumper… | On My Front Porch
  59. Fulfilling Promises to a Ghost | Cheri Speak

Alone in the playground

alone-on-the-playground

Maryam was excited. Today her father had promised to take her to the playground.  He was supposed to visit every Saturday but often he was too busy to come. He traveled a lot and was out of the country for many weeks at a time.

It was 6 months since her parents had divorced. Sometimes she would hear her mom crying in her bedroom. Maryam was still trying to understand what had happened. In all of her 8 years she had never seen her parents really happy together. It seemed they were only together for her sake. Her dad used to work late and during the week she hardly got to see him. He would come home after she had gone to sleep and leave for work before she got up.

But the weekends were special because she got to spend time with her dad. He would take her out to the playground near their house. Run with her while she rode her cycle. Her mom would make sandwiches for them and they would eat in the playground. She loved to ride the merry-go-round with the colorful animals and feel the wind on her face. Her dad had made up a story for each of the animals. The tiger who had a long neck because he liked to look over the hedge into his neighbor’s house,  the giraffe who always felt cold and wore a coat and the mutant turtle whose nose grew long like Pinocchio when he told lies.

Now she would long for the weekends even more. That time with her dad became even more special. But he would not always show up. She would dread the ringing of the telephone on Saturday morning because that would be her dad calling to say he couldn’t make it. But this Saturday, the phone didn’t ring. She waited for a while. Her mom had already started making the sandwiches to take with her. She looked out of the window. She could see the playground and the colorful merry-go-round beckoning her. But there was no sign of her dad. She told her mom that she would wait for him at the playground. She sat on the bench with her sandwiches and watched some children play. After a while the children went home and she was alone. She slowly took out one sandwich and started eating. She could see her mom watching her from their gate. She was hungry and she finished the sandwiches. Still there was no sign of her dad. Her mom had gone inside as well. Maybe she was trying to call him.

She got up and sat next to the mutant turtle on the merry-go-round. Why hadn’t he come? Was he doing something more important or had he just forgotten? Why had he told her he would come? Why had he kept her waiting? What excuse would he make? Would his nose become long like the mutant turtle’s? Was this the beginning of the end? Would he never be her dad again? She felt a lump in her throat but she stopped herself from crying. And there sat the little girl, alone in the playground.