I can't wait until Monday...

Apr 26, 2012 20:22

...because that's when the gym closes, and I don't have to deal with these kids anymore.

There's this one kid whose mother has brought her in three times now, and I'm certain she has ADD or something because I never want to see her walk through the door, ever.

The first time, her mother brought her in alone, there was no one else at the gym, and the mom spent most of the time talking on the phone and not watching her. Since there were no other kids (I assume; she behaved a little better differently today, and there were 20-odd kids), she was all over everything that wasn't a toy. She got into, or tried to get into up until a miraculous save by me or a lock: the box of punch cards, the printer, the microwave, the water fountain, upstairs storage, Lost and Found, the janitorial closet, the space heater, and the fire alarm.

The second time, her mother brought two boys (little brothers?) as well, and thankfully did a slightly better job at watching her, particularly because instead of getting into things she had previously found interesting, she decided that escape from the gym was her goal for the day; any and all doors outside were to be investigated, opened, and run out again, and again, and again. Fortunately the emergency doors are not alarmed. And, following her lead, near the end one of her brothers decided that escape was a good plan and also attempted to leave multiple times.

At first I was thankful for the mother paying closer attention this time (not perfect, but better is much nicer than chatting on the phone the whole time), but then I checked the bathroom and discovered that the mother had plugged it. After spending an hour and a half trying to keep an eye on every door in the gym just in case she was distracted by the boys at an inopportune moment, I threw my hands in the air and left it for the next supervisor.

Today, as mentioned, was wild. I've never had that many kids in the gym before, I think, and either way easily as many as I've had for the past two weeks combined. She plays for a bit, then she comes into the lounge area where I'm checking my email and eating breakfast, as an early dentist appointment resulting in a rushed morning plus a bad mood had deemed it a 'second breakfast consisting of hot chocolate and donut with sprinkles' day. Which would probably have been sufficient in cheering me up had the following not happened:

She asks for something starting with 'b'. I assume she's saying bike, as we have a large and magnificent fleet of tricycles, and point through the window to the one sitting unused at the other end of the gym. She continues asking for 'b', getting up close in a way only little kids can and not get yelled at, and I continue to point the tricycle out. She's got a tiny trickle of snot coming out her nose, and wipes it with her hand. Still asking, she climbs up onto the bench and leans over, putting her snotty hand all over my backpack.

Finally I realize that she is not asking for a bike, but rather a bite. Of my donut. No she very well can't have a bite of my donut. One, I'm starving. Two, my donut. Three, I hate you you little demonic hellspawn. Four, you think I'm going to give you a bit of donut after you wiped snot on my backpack, get out, I don't care if you're only five, you're an ill-behaved brat!

Politely, I tell her that it's my donut and she can't have any. She asks several more times to no avail. then gets down off the bench and runs to the other side of the chair I'm sitting in and asks again. She repeats this bizarre, switching-sides-then-asking-again thing several times, as if I'll forget she's the same person in the span of two seconds. I know she's five (uneducated guess), but honestly.

Finally she leaves. I wait a few minutes to make sure she's not coming back, then hide my donut in the bag then go to the janitorial closet to get something with which to disinfect my pack. She spends the rest of her time at the gym trying to take other kids' toys, resulting in both parties crying, and generally acting like a spoiled brat. Her mother finally decides it's time to go, and she and one of her brothers do not complain too much as they put on their coats and boots, but the other one, dear me. The mother had to pick him up and carry him, screaming and hitting her, over to the door where, still screaming, she had to hold him down while she put his shoes on.

I don't even know what the problem is here. The daughter was yelled at multiple times when she refused to not be a mini-asshole, but she just ignored her mother. And holy shit, I thought her brothers were well-behaved, but hitting your mother is not something that is done.

On the other hand, when the gym closes is when I start spending all day at the shop, and I don't think I can handle that.

this is anger management, working stiffery

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