So I was sitting at the cafe.......

...minding my own business and trying to decide if my mocha latte had been made to my specifications.

I was tired and not a little bit cranky but was determined to enjoy the glorious sunny day as I sat at the open window watching the world go by.

It was very peaceful, a few birds chirping, the sound of shopping trolleys rattling past and the occassional car momentarily obscuring my view of the lone tree planted in the path between rows of parked cars.  I was watching a bird nesting in the crown of the tree and marveling at its busy-ness.  I saw the detritus of its building endeavours on the ground below that reminded me I must sweep the front porch when I get home - we have our resident sparrows building their nest above the front door (an annual event).

I decided after a 3rd sip of coffee that the girl had forgotten to add the chocolate to my mocha - so essentially I was drinking a latte.  I waved her over and informed her of the oversight and asked if she could just add it now.

Poor thing she got flustered and apologised and fussed about - this minor intrusion of chaos into my peace at that moment was quite irritating but I took hold of her arm and quietly told her not to stress - it is a simple fix and her boss didn't need to know.

She looked at me relieved and grateful - must be new on the job I thought to myself.  As she walked away with my cup I wondered what life was like for her - I tend to do that, project into people's lives with my imaginings.  Especially when they react in strange ways - or over react.

Some considerable time later she returned with what was obviously a freshly made mocha and stood waiting for me to taste it.  I sent her on her way explaining that it was still too hot.  She watched me from afar.  At last the mocha had cooled sufficiently for me to take a sip.  As I raised my cup to do so the banshee screech of a mother berating her toddler ricocheted inside my skull and in that instant my chair was bumped from behind and my mocha.... my second chance mocha.... went flying across the table.

I looked up and locked eyes with the waitress - we were both devastated.  She scurried back and started mopping up as the engineer of this disaster continued screeching at the toddler and now blaming it for spilling 'the nice lady's coffee'.  The child naturally began to cry - more turmoil in my shattered peace.  I didn't know whether to order a new coffee or scream back at the mother.

The waitress, sweet girl had cleaned up and promised me another mocha. The mother, stupid cow, continued on her tirade at the child, threatening all sorts of punishments and asking this 2 -3 year old if she wanted to be smacked!!!

The child cried on, the birds twittered obliviously, the waitress frothed the milk and I sat in my chair shaking and realised for the first time that my hand was burnt a little and my book was damp.

Then, like the retort of a gunshot I heard it.... that sound that lights all the fuel in my psyche, the sound that erupts the volcano, the sound that strips me of all reason, sensibility and care-factor.  The sound of a child being slapped.

"Oh my God" I hollered as I spun in my chair to face the mother and the now screaming toddler.  "Are you insane?" I say to her.  "Do you really think that you look good as a parent for smacking a defenceless child? What the (insert f-word) is wrong with you?"  "Who the hell do you think you are that you feel you have the right to beat up on a 2 year old - you don't deserve to be a mother!" 

She look horrified - I was glad.  "Look', she said. "It's been a bad day and I just snapped".  My response was that I didn't care what her problems were, that she had no right to visit her frustrations on an innocent child and that if that child was misbehaving it clearly had something to do with how it was being treated and raised.  Slowly the tirade ebbed and she was able to get a word in.   But her words were just excuses for hersef. She didn't believe that I had never struck my kids - I told her I had, once each, and that I had apologised to them and never did it again.  I told her that I had learned from my mistake, and that that is what intelligent people do.  Eventually it occurred to me to ask why the child was smacked.  I didn't get an answer. So I asked how my chair got bumped.  Again no answer.  I surmised that the mother now realised that she was not blameless in this whole scenario.

She offered to pay for a replacement coffee.  I accepted.  Then she prepared to leave.  The toddler had been promised a treat and was now wanting it.  I said 'if you made a promise to her you better keep it, otherwise she will think you are a liar'. 

No one in my family will walk with me in a supermarket - they know that if I hear a child cry I will go hunting to find it and check it out.  If I see a parent striking that child I launch.  My hubby stays close these days, near enough to intervene if need be but not near enough to be associated with what I am doing.  

Do you know what frustrates me the most about these situations?  It is that I seem to be the only one who takes action.  I seem to be the only one in the crowd who will voice an objection.  Imagine if everyone in  that cafe stood up simultaneously and objected to that parent's behaviour.  And don't tell me it is none of my business.  And don't tell me parents have the right to decide how to raise their kids. And don't tell me you were spanked and it didn't hurt you!  Because that is horsefeathers!!

No child who has been struck by a parent, even a loving parent, enjoyed the experience.  No child who has been struck has learned the intended lesson - they learned that it is a violent, hurtful world.  And do you notice that people who have been smacked always say that it never hurt them, but there they are smacking their own children.  They act as if it is a right and sensible thing to do.  Who in their right mind believes that a toddler understands why you have just caused them excruciating pain?  Who in their right mind doesn't grasp the emotional and psychological damage done to a child when the parent says "just wait till I get you home!"  What agonies of fear is that child suffering as it waits for the inevitable pain and humiliation of a beating.  Is this not psychological torture?

Child abuse in ALL its forms is something that I cannot tolerate.  And if we all stood up against it publicly when it happens then it would slowly change.  I know some of you will say maybe we will just drive it underground - but it is already there.  What we need to do is give abusive parents pause.....if they are so comfortable striking a child in public you know damned well they are seriously hurting those kids at home.  Let's give them something to think about!  Let's be a community again!  Let's protect the innocent!

If you are thinking of questioning my qualifications to speak on the subject just know that I speak from experience.

At this time of year when everyone is thinking about gifts for their kids they should be thinking of also loving them for the rest of the year - and this means not hurting them.


My mantra is Spare the rod, love the child.

Children scream because they are not being heard.  Children lie to get attention.  Pay attention and there will be peace.