Recently, I was hanging out at a great ice cream parlor with the wife and kids. There's a big shade over the patio, a diner next door that sells delicious burgers with sweet potato fries, and a huge playscape dotted with painted concrete cows. The boy loves to run around and play in the dirty cypress mulch on the ground by the slides. Thing 1 likes to climb stuff. In a space crowded with ladders and tubes and steps, she chooses things like the rickety fence bordering a busy street or a pile of rubble with re-bar sticking out of the ground. Like always.
At a group of tables next to us, there was a little group of kids having a birthday party. The guest of honor was a 6 or 7 year old boy. His mom fluttered around him, waiting on him incessantly. He was dressed in a cowboy outfit, not the kind we used to get with the stitching around the brim of the hat and a shiny plastic badge. He had on an expensive looking western shirt, a little black stetson, boots,jeans, and he sported a plastic winchester rifle with the muzzle painted red (so no cops would mistake him for an outlaw and plug him full of lead). None of the other boys had on any cowboy gear. After all, his mother must have thought, today was his special day and no one elses. I couldn't help but take it all in. His mother was a pretty woman,with a good tan and good shoes. She looked like she was well taken care of. The others were variations of her with progressively lighter hair and different grades of jewelry. All tanned, rested and probably not working too hard if at all. The boys were named the kind of fucked up names the smug upper middle class chooses for its sons, Birthday boy was Tyler, his buddies were Carter, Hunter, Wyatt, and Beckett. No, seriously, no shit.
I went over to my boy to see what treasure Thing 2 might have found in the filth. He showed me a popsicle stick. Like a dumbass, I went to go grab it and he pulled it away angrily. It was on now, mofo. I made it a fun game to try to take it away from him, letting him poke at me with it all the while
Finally, he gave it to me willingly and hugged me around the knee.
A little later on the playground, I notice Tyler the dickhead cowboy and his little fag posse are gathered around my boy. One of them pushes him, and he laughs and pushes the wispy little fucker back. Thing 2 is only two years old and thinks it's cool that they want to play with him. Thing 1 goes over there before I do and says the words I taught her to say " Leave my brother alone or I'm gonna kick you in the penis!" She says the words, clearly and loudly, the moms hear it too. I went over there and said "I want all you guys to break this up.Now, move your butts", I point at my two kids next and say, " You two, don't go near those boys again."
The moms are watching intently, as I would too. I start bringing the kids back on to the patio. I have my back turned to the group of frat boy incubators. One of them, I don't know which one, starts with a bitchy prelude...."Umm excuse me..." I just wave my hand dismissively without looking back and say..."Whatever...I don't wanna hear it." She shuts the fuck up, probably because she can't imagine a complete stranger not caring about what she wants to say because most strangers in her world are paid to care and respond accordingly.
We police up our table for trash. We leave directly. On the way back, I reflect on the differences between them and us. These boys have advantages my children will never have. They will be able to travel in a safe little bubble, meeting kids just like them. No one in their experience will want to kick their asses for being who they are. When it comes time for them to go to college, they will have built in safety nets. They will never have to question their sense of belonging. Then it came to me. Not one of them had a Father that cared enough about them to show up and play with them. Not one of those boys with their trendy yuppy names had a dad that would frolic and goof with them or teach them about kicking penises. Perhaps some day a Tony, or Juan, or Eddie will beat their asses good. It may make them better men for it.