Throwing Rocks...

Write about a time your child embarrassed you in public.
Unfortunately, when I saw this prompt on the Writer's Workshop that I often read, I didn't have to think long to come up with an answer. A few weeks ago Jacob's Cub Scout troop had it's Crossing Over ceremony for their fifth graders.  The ceremony was held in the park, so I let Ally and Logan loose to play on the toys while Jacob and I watched and thought about how cool it will be next year when it was his time to cross over.Part way through the ceremony Logan runs over to tell me there is a boy throwing rocks at him on the playground.  I whispered to him to just stay away from the trouble maker.  Logan rolled his eyes at my inadequate dealing of the situation and ran off.A few minutes later I turn to check on my kids, just in time to see Logan picking up a rock to retaliate to the situation with which I hadn't helped.  I quickly exited the ceremony area and ran over calling Logan over to me.  My son felt completely justified in what he had done.  My most logical child had thought this through...a kid throws rocks at him, Mom won't help, he had to take things into his own hands.  My intent was to make him sit for a few minutes, talk to him about the hazards of throwing rocks, and move on.  Why doesn't anything happen with my kids the way I imagine it in my head?He planted himself, with other parents on the playground watching the show, and shouted he threw them at me first.   Wearing the heels I had worn to work that day, I was not as good at getting around on the playground as Logan, so it took a bit of time before I caught his arm.  We need to get off the playground, I tried to calmly explain to my five year old.  He had no intention of making any move away from those toys.At this point, I was in too deep to let it go and discuss later, so I did the only thing I could do, I picked up my boy who has been too big to carry for at least a year.  His legs dangled in front of my legs, so his feet kicked my legs with the first few steps.  Then the little genius wrapped both his legs around one of my knees rendering me immobile.After a little more regrouping in my head, the kid got set down and picked back up.  But this time sideways, like a log.  I made quick work of throwing him in the van and shutting the door.  Finally I was able to turn around and face the park full of people, while I leaned on the van from which screams of hatred were coming from my youngest child.  I stood there and pondered just getting in and driving away but then I remembered I have two more kids, one of which was in the middle of a function.  So instead I waited for the screams to stop.  Then I would open the door and they would begin again.

How can you stay mad at that face??

He was released from the van at some point that evening, but definitely not to return to the playground toys.  There also was a follow up grounding from video games, which, for him, is the cruelest form of torture.  I'm hoping he came away a little wiser, while I just came away wishing I could throw some rocks.