Violation

Today the Bear and I went to his Gymboree class as usual. Most of the regulars were out of town and a few new visitors were in class. The Bear's teacher thrives on a high pitched voice just shy of vampire bat frequency. She is a lovely woman and really loves her students- but her vocal chords seem to be attached to her nasal passages, which results in a nonstop sing-song voice that sounds like drunk anime. The Bear loves her. Now that we are six weeks into the class, I can say that I definitely see the benefit in going. The kids get exercise and work on their coordination and listening skills. On most days, I would also add that they benefit from the opportunity to socialize. I would not say that today, however.

Today we had five little boys and one little girl in class. The age range being 6 months to 4 years old. Everything bopped along as usual until parachute time. The parents grabbed hold of the giant parachute and all the kids were encouraged to scoot under while we proceeded to shake the parachute up and down over them. The Bear wiggled his way to the very middle, lay flat on his back and enjoyed the sensation of wind being pushed down each time the parachute moved. It was all fun and games up until this point. And then she went for him. "She" being the only little girl in class. Thankfully this little girl was not a prostitot (definitition: a little girl whose parent or guardian has robbed them of a childhood by dressing them like a prostitute, pictured below)

See: South Park's "Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset" episode for more details

She was a normal, beautiful green-eyed little girl with a heavy dose of spunk...and a lot of nerve. This little girl crawled under the parachute, stretched herself out next to my son and held his hand. She giggled with him, tickled him, and kissed him. Then she held his hand again for a few seconds before the Bear pulled away with a gracious smile. Luckily I was on parachute duty so the chance of my storming over to break it up did not present itself. Her mother looked equally horrified, by the way. It really was an overly aggressive kiss for a preschooler to be wielding. Which brings me to another point, she is well over the age of three, almost pushing four I would say. The Bear is a mere 22 months old, which by Gymboree class standards made this little lady a veritable cougar.

I didn't think it was "cute" or "adorable" or "sweet." If it happens again I may contemplate wearing a referee whistle to class. Violation! Five yard penalty, please. My sweet baby boy does not need to have your feminine wiles foisted upon him during bubble time.

My mother, quite unfairly, pointed out to me that at the age of two I was running around our church forcing kisses on little boys. In my defense, I chose older men capable of defending themselves (they were at least eleven months older). It was not charitable of her to press such a point during my time of suffering. He is my little angel, my sweet little boy. I want to enjoy him and have him all to myself right now before I have to release and let him venture out into the world. I know that time will come, believe me I know. Its one of the reasons why I am trying to perfect my cooking, I want to give him one hell of a good reason to come home on the weekends and all major holidays. So please, little tiny Gymboree cougar, go play on the bouncy mats with your Mommy and leave my boy alone! Thank you.