Parenting
By Emma Lark
Updated: Aug. 20, 2023
Originally Published: June 29, 2023
Any parent with a child at the playdate stage knows that not every little friend will be a favorite. At some point during these social gatherings, other kids can become too bossy, too nosy, too loud—just too much. From my perspective, most children prefer to keep their distance from the adults unless we’re armed with treats like Popsicles and water balloons. This separation typically works, provided you check in often enough to ensure the kids aren’t trying to give your cat a bath or setting the living room on fire.
I was just getting used to our summer schedule when my son’s buddy, Alex, came over. I had specifically told my son that this playdate would only last two hours because we needed to leave for my daughter’s soccer game.
With just 15 minutes left, Alex comes up to me and asks, “Can I come with you to the soccer game?”
“Oh, not today, buddy. Our car is full because we’re taking one of my daughter’s friends,” I replied. My daughter, always ready to stir the pot, casually points out that there is actually one seat available. A pleading session ensues. I try to hold my ground. After all, Alex isn’t the worst of the bunch. Why not earn some good karma this early in summer?
We cram into the car, and what follows feels like a chaotic game of Jeopardy. One moment, he’s a polite 9-year-old settling into the backseat. The next, he’s bombarding us with questions at lightning speed.
“Are we there yet? Why are we driving so slowly? Why aren’t we there yet? Where are we? It looks like it might rain. Will they still play if it rains? Why is there so much traffic?”
I glance over at my husband, who seems to be retreating into his seat like a turtle. Turning up the music, I try to drown out the relentless barrage of inquiries.
After we drop off the girls for their warm-up, Alex pipes up, “Why are we driving away?”
I take a deep breath and respond, “The girls need to be there early. We’re going to grab some food before the game.” No sooner do I finish saying this than he launches into another series of questions.
“Where are we going to eat? Can we eat at Pizza Ranch? Why aren’t we eating at Pizza Ranch? I wanted Pizza Ranch. Is the place we’re going fancy? What is this place? I’ve never been here. Can I order now and you can order later? If I get wings, how many will I get? Do you think the blue cheese comes on the side? How long does it usually take for the food to come? I usually eat at 5:30. This is late for me. Are we going to miss the soccer game? When do you think the food will get here? Do you think I could sleep over tonight?”
After my third sip of margarita, I watch as my husband quietly slides off his seat and curls up beneath the table, quietly sucking his thumb in the fetal position. I stare into my empty glass in utter disbelief.
On the ride home after the game, it hits me that there may be families out there who have hosted my son and felt the same frustration. To those parents, I sincerely apologize for any distress our family may have caused you, as well as any hangovers.
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