At the Playland

2:45 p.m. I'm here at the McDonald's playland with the boys. Tab planned to put together some of his tax information today and needed a quiet house. The weather is cold and the ground is still an unappealing mix of slush and mud, so outside activity was not really an option.

I figured many other parents would have the same idea, but I was unprepared for the number and size of some of the kids here. There were at least seven big kids monopolizing the ball pit; most of them looked to be at least eleven or twelve years old. They were throwing the balls hard at each other. I called my boys over to me and told them to avoid the ball room for now, at least until the big kids left. There is a sign posted outside the ball pit stating that no one over 4 feet tall is permitted inside, but no one seems to be paying attention to that rule.

Likewise, no one seems to have read the signs that say no climbing on the outside of the maze or throwing balls outside of the ball area. There are several kids grabbing armfuls of balls and hurling them at each other outside of the ball room. Where are the parents? That's what I want to know. I have little patience for people who can't manage to keep control over their kids.

One of the ball throwers is a little boy, perhaps Daniel's age, with curly blond hair. He looks like a little Cupid, but he has a devilish streak. Right now he is pretending to fight with another kid, apparently a companion of his--his brother, perhaps? They don't look much alike, but you never know. The blond boy is performing some faux martial arts move, kicking out with his leg. Oops, he just managed to knock his friend down, and now the friend is crying.

The big kids are still hurling balls inside the ball room. I thought about asking a manager to kick them out, but then they might start running around through the maze, knocking little kids (such as mine) down. They are better off contained in one place. I've determined that at least five of them belong to one woman. She is sitting at a table on the other side of the room, turning the pages of what looks like a textbook and writing on lined notepaper. I guess she is some kind of student; I sympathize but, really, her kids are much too old for this place.

My boys are running around together. Several times Daniel has run on ahead and each time, Matthew freaks out when he loses sight of Daniel. They've just come over for a sip of water from the water cups I've brought. Their faces are flushed red with exertion. They sip quickly then dash back into the maze.

The angel-faced bully is finally leaving. It looks like the adult responsible for him--and I use the word "responsible" in the loosest possible manner--was his grandmother, who was not even in the playroom for most of the time. She was sitting in the regular McDonald's restaurant area. I wonder if she has even the faintest clue of the wild behavior her grandson exhibited.

A big guy with a pale blue McDonald's shirt on has told the big kids they'd have to get out of the ball area. They reluctantly emerged and wandered over to their mother's table. After a few minutes she sent them away and, of course, they ended up back in the ball room. The manager just came back and told them to get out again.

"And if I see you back in here, I'm going to ask you to leave the building," he added.

The mother is packing away her books now, and her kids are putting on their shoes.

Good, maybe my three can have a turn in the ball pit finally.

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