We pulled up a little early for volleyball practice. It's a school in our district, but not our neighborhood school. New playgrounds are so exciting! I told them they could play for a few minutes before going in.
The boys were there before us, playing basketball. They're older than mine, maybe fourth graders. One boy was standing up on the frame behind the backboard, 10 feet off the ground. I watched them for a while, then told the kids we needed to get going.
As I walked away, saying nothing, I pictured seeing a newspaper article the next day about a local boy getting smooshed after falling off the basketball hoop.
So I said bravely, looking up, "You know what. I'm a teacher and I need to tell you that you shouldn't be up there. If you would fall, it would kill you. I need to you come down safely now and do not get back up there." I wasn't angry. He didn't disagree. His friends laughed at him a little, but he got down. Safely.
I breathed a sigh of relief and felt so much better as we walked away.
I waited to celebrate with my B, she's always Ms. Safety Patrol.
Instead of the high five I was expecting, I got this, "You know what mom. That was actually pretty embarrassing. And you don't even work here!"
That last bit I think she said a little louder so they might hear her disapproval.
I'm still glad I did it.
My daughter just wasn't.