You Can’t Play
During the era of child-centered, adult-castrating, everyone-is-a-bully education reform, some well-meaning child psychologist coined the phrase “You can’t say ‘you can’t play’’’. The goal of this catchy playground policy was to eliminate social rejection and transform the world into a fluffy bubble of love and acceptance. You can’t say you can’t play!
An astute observer of playground politics will note that the only people adhering to this rule are parents, who seem to think that they, too, are not allowed to tell anyone they can’t play—namely their own children.
The dragging mother of a striped-tights tot has this to say: “Sweetie, I need to do a few more things at home so we’re going to have to leave in a minute, and when that happens I don’t want any fussing, okay? Didn’t you promise mommy no fussing? Good, so we are going to go in juuuusst a minute” to which her daughter responds by screaming and running in the opposite direction.
Nearby, Napoleon himself stands atop a slide and announces to a throng of kids “If you don’t care about my dog, then you can’t play!” and commences a riotous game of tag. Those who agree to his terms rapturously join the fray, those who don’t jump on a spinning tire or continue eating sand.
On this playground, the only people hurt by “you can’t play” are adults. The kid-centered kids either buck up or back off, unwilling to let three silly words ruin their play.
This is a great little piece – you have a Tom Wolfe-ish attention to detail and voice. But your fucking spaces are all wrong.