I almost had to fight two eight-year-olds today. I'm not proud but those little kids have pushed me to the limit.
They're twins who apparently have moved down the street recently and are the meanest, most foul-mouthed little boys I have ever met. Not only have they stolen Ty's little best friend (Ty claims they crossed him over to The Dark Side) but they have been accused of throwing rocks and ice at him (on two separate occasions), chasing him down and pushing him off his bike, locking him out of a room leaving him to bang on the door to be let back in, throwing "gang signs" (I'm seriously dying laughing over here) and calling him a "bitch."
That's right - a bitch.
For real? Because if they took the time to get to know him a little better they'd have appropriately called him a son of a bitch.
Ty has come home day in and day out far earlier than I'd expect him and when I ask him why he's not playing he very coolly says that they didn't want to play with him. When I question "they" since he was out playing with one friend as far as I knew, and probe him for answers I learn that these boys came out, stole his friend, somehow threatened him and then Ty barks back some Kindergarten non-sense about "I don't even like you!"or something else equally non-intimidating and comes inside to be left alone.
Up until today, although it breaks my heart to see him isolated like that and still trying to be so tough about it, I've left it alone. I have told him over and over to try to not let it bother him, be the bigger person, find someone else to play with, and that they're just being bullies. I mean, come on - he's five. They're in the third grade, for crying out loud.
Up until today, I've watched them swirl around the neighborhood on their bikes, throwing rocks and asking each other "what the hell, man!" until I come walking towards them. Then they haul the mail in the other direction and peek around the corner every minute or so to see if it's safe to come back down the street to start thugging again. (Seriously, that cracks me up.)
Shea has even gone out to make sure they're leaving Ty alone when he's outside playing because I'll be damned if he stays barricaded in this house just because some punk kids are playing on our street. The last time Shea went out to tell them to back off, however, they threw up some hand jives and told him "Fuck you!"
So up until today I've been chill.
Today I hear them running their mouths to Ty and his other little five-year-old friend who are minding their own business playing Gameboys in our garage. I hear Ty saying "I don't even know you! Okay???"
Finding his threats to leave him alone far from threatening, I walk out to check the mail and to eyeball the kiddie feud firsthand. Tupac & Biggie Smalls are down the street on their bikes and have no idea I'm walking back from the mailbox. One of them comes back by my house and utters some inaudible but probably very shitty stuff to Ty and his friend, who are both sitting in our garage and are ohbytheway five, when I literally almost give the kid whiplash by growling from behind a very rough:
"You watch your mouth around my kid, and you DO NOT talk to him again. Do you hear me??"
He nodded a "Mmhmm" and was gone.
I didn't even plan to do it; it just happened. I had really planned to be a grown-up and go talk to their parents eventually. And I'm sure a kinder, more nurturing approach would have been better but I was just so fed up with the whole situation, and when I witnessed the bullying
right there, I couldn't help it - the ghettofabulousness just seeped on out.
(Okay, this reminds me of the time I was 15 and I overheard my 13-year-old brother telling a boy he'd meet him at the park for a fight. I followed him and caught up just as they started throwing punches. The other boy had my brother on the ground and I rolled up, grabbed the boy by the back of the hair, yanked his head up to look at me dead in the face and growled "YOU DON'T EVER TOUCH MY BROTHER!!!!" The boy whimpered off and my brother rambled on about how embarrassed he was, how he was gonna turn it around, he wasn't getting his butt kicked, blah blah blahblahblah. I think he was just secretly glad I saved his scrawny ass.)The funny thing was I told Ty and his friend that we'd play baseball, to just forget about those mean guys, and no more than 20 minutes had passed before the whole crew (the ex-best friend included) came and asked if they could play, too. The Mean Boys were chasing down the baseballs for me and tossing them to me, smiling and trying to be my friend. Of course, I let them play - you know, teaching Ty all about forgiveness and hopefully teaching The Mean Boys all about world peace.
I complimented their hitting and praised their efforts, and they made sure others knew when it was Ty's turn to bat. They really are normal, likeable kids when they're being normal, likeable kids - laughing and playing and being little boys.
Hopefully they've seen the light and realize that Ty's not such a bad kid to have around and more importantly, that bullying isn't all it's cracked up to be ('cause I'll be ticked if they just used me.)
