V is for Perplexed

V. got in trouble for the horrible offense of playing with my daughter. Again.

Remember a few days ago when Boobaby was “The Other Woman” — coming between four-year old besties V. and L.? That day, V’s dad told his daughter that her friend’s feelings were getting hurt, which was probably a good thing… although I didn’t really appreciate the hairy eyeball he gave me.

Well, the whole drama was rehashed Wednesday, except that the best friend wasn’t there! No one’s feelings were getting hurt. Bunches of kids were playing with bunches of other kids in the classic playground scene: kids were making and unmaking those loose alliances that make playgrounds look like chimpanzee nature videos. A group of three became a group of six until a group of two peeled off to go find grubs — that kind of thing.

And lo!, V. gravitated toward Boobaby, and once again, her dad felt that he needed to have a serious conversation about her interest in playing with my wicked two-year old.

At the moment of truth, V. was spinning with my daughter on those weird modern-day playground spinny things when her dad called her over. And, in a low voice that carried almost well enough for me to get the gist, she got chastised for playing with Boo.

As a result, V. plodded off to “play” by herself over by the wall with the hedge. Later I saw her sitting on a bench, again alone. Finally, she rejoined some of the other kids, but without her prior luster.

I know, you’re going to say that I’m being paranoid about this dad. Maybe he was just telling V. to eat her greens that night at dinner — I didn’t really hear the conversation. But like they say, just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean that I’m wrong.

I’m a little nervous about this guy now. I can’t wait until they day when we can both look back on this playground static and laugh about it.

Heh. Heh.