Fun With Play-Dough

My son Mendel has slammed his mouth against the bar of the shopping cart. How, I’m not quite sure; I was looking for sandwich baggies and turned my back for a second. My husband, who was right next to him, doesn’t really understand it either. When little kids do something stupid, they usually move fast. We assess the damage; he cut his lip, so there’s lots of blood. His tears mix with the blood, and his face turns into something that would be more at home in a horror movie. Three employees gather around, an icepack is brought in; it’s the most excitement we’ve seen in a while.

The ice is cold and shocks him into silence; finally, we can hear each other and discuss the situation at hand. And that’s when it happens. One of the employees asks:

“Would you like to fill out an incident report?”

What? Me, an incident report? No! And admit that our child got hurt while shopping with both parents? In writing? Never.

Of course, I know exactly why they need to ask: suing is as much a national pastime as watching baseball and eating burgers. I could decide later that the shopping cart was poorly designed, imagine my son to have a concussion, and taken the department store to court. I wonder how often and how successfully they deal with parents just like us. Maybe they would have settled; in one fell swoop I could have sold my self-esteem and rendered any subsequent parenting completely useless. People that sue when their children get hurt in public places forget an important fact: it is almost always the child’s fault, and learning that is an essential part of growing up. When you refuse to sit down in the cart when your parents tell you to, you get hurt. If you touch the iron while it’s hot, you’ll burn your fingers. If you run into traffic, a car hits you. And if it doesn’t, you get spanked. Cause and consequence; they are the backbone of early childhood.

The question is now: will he learn? To answer that, we need to ask another question: did it hurt enough? My guess is no. Also, the icepack was a major pay-off, like getting a present when you least expect it, almost worth the pain. Funny enough, it’s the sight of all the blood that leaves the biggest impression with Mendel. For days after, he talks about it, as if he discovered Mount Everest, the Amazon rain forest, and Tut’s tomb all in one day; blood is cool. Ten times a day he wipes his mouth, checking if there’s more. I’m afraid he has learned nothing at all.