Hi! I'm Lindsay Ferrier. You might remember me from a blog called Suburban Turmoil. Well, a lot has changed since I started that blog in 2005. My kids grew up, I got a divorce, and I finally left the suburbs for the heart of Nashville, where I feel like I truly belong. I have no idea what the future will hold and you know what? I'm okay with that. Thrilled, actually. It was time for something totally different.
July 18, 2011
The very serious post I wrote last Friday reminded me of another incident that happened at that very same playground- coincidentally, it even tied in with the post’s topic.
That particular playdate that I wrote about was planned so that Punky could see one of her classmates during spring break. At the appointed time, we met up with the classmate and her younger sister, along with their young next-door neighbor and her mom. The four girls began playing and seemed to be getting along well, and after watching them for a few moments, I began chit-chatting with their moms in the slightly awkward getting-to-know-you way that moms thrown into that kind of situation do.
Yes, it was just an ordinary playdate– at least until my daughter ran up to the neighbor’s mom with a grave look on her face.
“Lily’s mom?” she said solemnly.
“Yes?” the mom said, surprised.
“Your daughter just touched me on my private parts.”
Now, let’s just pause right here.
Is this not one of the most horrifying statements you could possibly hear from another child about your own?
Is this not a TOTAL worst-nightmare scenario?
Do these nine little words not immediately bring to mind visions of Child Protective Service investigations, court hearings, psychiactric evaluations, and mental hospital stays?
I saw all of these thoughts and more run across the woman’s face as she turned pale and attempted to sputter out a response.
“I…uh. What? Well, I… Um, er I…”
“Punky,” I interrupted, “Where did she touch you?”
“She hit me on my bum!” Punky said indignantly. “She told me to hurry up when I was climbing up the slide, and she smacked me on my bum, like that!” Punky mimed a swat.
“Well,” the mother said breathlessly, “We certainly do not allow that in our home.”
“Punky,” I said, kneeling down. “It’s okay. Lily didn’t mean anything by it. But thank you for telling us about it. It’s important that you say something to an adult when you feel uncomfortable.” Punky gave me a dubious look and ran back to the playground.
Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. “I uh, guess I’ve taught my daughter well,” I said. I laughed weakly, but the other mom was clearly rattled.
“Well, we do not tolerate that kind of behavior,” she said primly. She shot a quick look over at the classmate’s mom, as if trying to surreptitiously gauge whether this story was going to spread like wildfire the next day at their subdivision pool. “It has never happened before,” she vowed, “and it will never happen again. I will have a talk with Lily as soon as we leave.”
“Oh please don’t worry about it,” I said. But it was no use. Lily had been publicly called out as a potential molester, and her mother may well never recover.
Suffice it to say, I don’t worry too much about my daughter reporting any strange activity to me, should it occur.
I do, however, worry about poor Lily and her mother.
Yikes.
Image via higetiger/Flickr
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love it. This dance of parenthood can be so ridiculously uncomfortable some times it makes me long for the days when my momma would throw us outside after breakfast no expecting (nor particularly wanting) to see us until the dinner bell rang…ah childhood in the ’70’s
Sooooo true!
Sooooo true!
I’m so proud of Punky! And you for teaching her it is NOT all right to be touched in the private no matter how innocent. For her to speak up should bring you some peace of mind. I’m sorry it was at this others family’s expense but it is better to be safe than sorry! You handeled the situation as well as you could letting punky know it was ok to tell but that situation was ok she wasn’t in danger.
Thanks, Jackie! I really felt for that mom, though. I would have been so embarrassed if the roles were reversed!
HA! That is hilarious. God, I’m glad my kids are old and I don’t have to do play dates anymore.
Playdates kinda suck. Especially now that my daughter is making friends on her own and I no longer get to choose the moms we get together with. I tend to put my foot in my mouth in these situations- There’s probably a post there! LOL.
You? are a much better mom than me.
NOT TRUE.
Did Punky ask the other girl not to swat her bum before she ran to you? I mean good for her (I guess) for telling you that she felt uncomfortable (if she really did feel uncomfortable and wasn’t just trying to get the other girl in trouble). I don’t know. Sounds a little tattletale-ish.
As far as Punky knew, she was just doing what she had been taught- telling an adult, because someone touched her private parts. If that sounds ‘tattletale-ish’ to you, then so be it. She’s seven, and not as advanced in social nuance as you are.
You seem to be a little (or a lot) prickly. Some of your responses to comments on your other post were a bit off putting to me. I realize this is your blog, however as a long time reader I would like you to know that I may choose not to read any longer if you continue to be so pointed in your responses.
Well, this is an issue I’m pretty passionate about and yes, it does make me a bit ‘prickly,’ and yes, do feel it necessary to defend my position in this case. I have tried to be as polite as possible with commenters who disagree with me on this, while still defending my position. If that bothers you, though, then this probably is not the blog for you. However, Old MD Girl has a lonnnng history of needling me, so this particular comment is probably not the best example!
Although in this case, perhaps you’re right. Maybe the best thing to do is IGNORE. Or delete, depending on what kind of day I’ve had. 😉
Good lord, I laughed! Poor, poor little child molester!