Being a Kid

Maybe you are a kid. Maybe you remember being one. I'm proud to say that I have a couple that I love to pieces and I remember being one myself. But I don't recall, nor do I allow mine, to run wild with no supervision. At least, not until they are old enough -- say eleven, twelve, somewhere in there. Yet on a recent trip to the local YMCA, I was extremely disappointed to find 6th, 7th and 8th graders playing on playground equipment that was clearly meant for small children. A couple of parents even told their own kids that too many big kids were playing and they would come back later. The equipment in question was one of those climbing things made out of various levels of "boxes." Personally, I climbed right in after my kid and protected the car-like box he was playing in. The Y is very generous in its policy that allows children ages 6+ in this playground area without their parents. What they fail to realize is having one attendtant who never leaves the counter doesn't work. All she can see is the tv room and the pool table. As a parent, I can think of all sorts of bad things happening outside of her view. Not that she isn't capable of handling her job. The supervision would better be covered by two person, one of which should be over the age of 18 and feel comfortable to tell the "big kids" to knock it off. As my two grow older, maybe I'll change my mind. One of them will be five in March. I can't imagine leaving him alone to run, let alone to run with an ever changing number of unsupervised kids. They are just asking for trouble.