The Bully in the Sandbox

{Click the Title for Music: Sarah McLaughlin "World on Fire"}
When George gives speeches I sometimes find myself reflecting on other Bullies in my life. I can't help it. The first bully I ever met was a Neighborhood Variety kind, his name was Stinkie Robinson, and that was what the kids called him, he used to steal his mother's cigarettes and do terrible things to Frogs. And he was the first Bully that I ever fought, and I was five. There was spitting, kicking and namecalling involved with this Battle.I indeed may have kicked where I was not suposed to, it started simple enough. It ended with my being told that I "needed to apologize", and to "act more ladylike", and of course the obligatory "Two wrongs don't make a right".I can tell you right now, there was No Apology, and much time spent in one's room.And in a way I should thank Stinkie , because he was the first one I fought, and after a few battles I learned that spending time in my room was prefereable to compromising my principles.So I am well read thanks to Stinkie.So from these Childhood battles I learned early that there are always Bullies, and they may differ in stature or levels of Cruelty but they are everywhere.The one thing that I actually never contemplated is that they Grow Up.

When my son was little he was playing in a local sandbox, he had brought his favorite toys and diggers and it was a location where we went almost daily on hot summer eves. Suddenly another boy arrived and started grabbing at all of his things, and also burying his toys, and when 6-6 spoke up, the "Child" started throwing sand in his face. I now realized that no other mom was going to intervene, so I did. I quickly dusted off 6-6 and put myself in between the two boys.The Brat ( as we can now affectionatly call him) began stomping his feet and yelling, still kicking sand everywhere. I spoke up loudly and told him to stop.I yelled over to the mother" I think your son is actin inappropriately, could you please come speak with him?". She put down her Latte and her paper and yelled from her comfy spot on a near by Bench,"I don't want to get sand in my shoes, the boys will have to just work this out." Then I yelled back to her" They are three year olds, they lack the skills". Now her lovely child was still screaming and called me and my son " Poopheads". She yelled over "Johnny, use your words." I yelled back ,'He did just use his words, you need to come over and monitor your child, he is still throwing sand!". I said this as my son cried and I tried to comfort him, and gather the toys to leave, because I already knew that Mrs-I -must-have-my-latte- on-the-bench was NOT going to deal with her Angel. As I gathered everything up and put them in the bags, I looked down at the Screaming Angel and said loudly for Mommy Dearest to hear,"Please do ask your Mommy What a Bully is ?".

And I walked home and carried my crying three year old full of sand, frustation and confusion. He was bewildered WHY this bully acted the way he did to him. And I explained it was not about him at all, and nothing he did, that Bullies look for fights and don't really ever care what others feel or experience.They don't care about hurting others.And we talked about it over and over as we went home and ate Breyers vanilla ice cream.

So watching Mr.Bush give his speech the other night, it finally dawned on me, that they don't grow up, they just get bigger.