I spent yesterday morning with a three year old. I didn’t know what I would be doing as usually I
watch her in the evening and feed her dinner, get her ready for bed, read
bedtime stories – all that stuff. I’m better at that. I don’t really know what
to do with kids during the day. Even for a few hours, I have no idea what to do
with them in a city. I mean, museums, sure, but without a car, that goes from
ideal to terrible in three seconds flat. Especially when the three year old doesn’t
want to walk anywhere, even the bus stop.
We didn’t go
to a museum because after a block she was complaining about her legs hurting.
Her dad said the museum was only a thirty minute walk, so I figured they’d
walked it with her before. And he didn’t give me a stroller or anything, so I
thought she could manage. But between the unnamed chip on my shoulder and her
whining, we only made it to the park, and that was after taking a break to get
her a drink – her dad did give us money for lunch.
She would
usually have gone to school today, but she had diarrhea so she wasn’t allowed
to come today, and her dad was working from home so I was called to entertain
her.
We were
almost to the park when a woman walking her dog didn’t pick up its shit,
instead she placed a piece of newspaper over it. This bothered me, but I was
preoccupied with a moody three year old. We continued walking.
Another
woman who had been speaking to a man nearby shouted, “Hey, you’re gonna pick
that up aren’t you?” We were on a major street with high foot traffic, and that
was a pretty inconsiderate thing to do, but I understand forgetting the
poo-bags, but placing newspaper over it seemed worse than leaving it uncovered.
“There’s a kid there, she could step in it!” This was true, too, but I was
doing everything I could to avoid this confrontation and get on my way.
The dog’s
owner spun around and came within an inch of the older woman to shout, “Get out
of my fucking face!” The irony escaped her, I suppose, seeing as the woman had
not been anywhere near her face, nor had she been particularly rude.
The owner
sort of wiped it up and it became apparent why she hadn’t in the first place.
The fecal matter wasn’t exactly solid. But if she knew this, and she had
newspaper, why not place the paper under her dog’s ass and pick it up after? It
seemed obvious, but I couldn’t say this because being in the company of someone
else’s child made saying anything seem irresponsible.
“If you
don’t pick it up, I’m going to call the cops!” the woman shouted.
“Do it, I
don’t care.” The woman did. “Fuck you, cop caller!” The dog owner continued as
she ran away.
