A 6 year old boy wearing an Independent skateboarding logo on his t-shirt. Cool, right? In the top carriage of the F train, his mother holds him up for 3 stops, for him to look out the last window to see what’s coming. Then she puts him down, and I realise he can see for himself.
While holding him, she doesn’t stop saying “do you see his arm (the driver)? Do you see his backpack?” She is continually stimulating, cajoling, prodding – it reminds me of high power nannies I’ve seen in Park Slope who feel the need to constantly “entertain” their charges, almost with a sense that they’re afraid of the kids they’re looking after.
“What comes after 4th Avenue?”
“I don’t know.”
Maybe the kid has a learning issue, but he doesn’t seem to. It might be more an issue of – not control, rather giving birth in one’s late 30s, early 40s. But it doesn’t just seem to be gratitude for her son: there’s a Park Slope high-poweredness to it that causes migraine in those without kids: an enabling into entitlement.
This kid seems normal still, but God help us, by his 10th year, as he walks the aisles of Park Slope Food Co op, I suspect we’ll be hearing, “can we have sushi for lunch today, Mom? Is that muffin vegan?”