We went to a hypermarket this morning for some needed groceries. While my wife went grocery shopping, I stayed with our daughter in the playground they have in there.

At some point, my daughter decided it was time to play in the little train they have there. An older kid was there but the little train has two seats so she went to the empty one and sat with the smile of the kind of joy only a 3 year-old feels when heading to enter a toy train. That joy was short lived as the kid decided he didn’t want to share and pushed her out.

I calmed her down and since the kid was already in the train before her, I decided it wasn’t worth it and just calmed her down. “Let’s go play over there and then we’ll come back later! Come on! Let’s go!” (Kids that age respond to enthusiasm.)

Fast forward to a bit later and the train was empty. My daughter decided it was a good time for a second try. She climbed aboard and started playing with the levers when the kid from before comes rushing and shouting “no no no no!” He then climbs aboard and throws her out. Let me make it clear I am talking about My. Little. Princess.

Oh boy.

“Hey,” I stared at him, “that’s not cool!” He must have been 8 or 9, my daughter is 3. He should know better by now.

He just replied, “It’s mine!”

“No, it’s not!” I said it back, the way adults talk to naughty children. “Where are your parents?”

Before he would answer, this lady comes and asks what’s going on. She’s obviously the kid’s mother. I tell her that he pushed my daughter out of the train and she’s looking at me like I’m speaking Russian or something[1. To be fair, I was a bit upset and I am sure I was mangling my Spanish, which isn’t very good to begin with.].

“Why can’t your child share it my son?” she asked, indignantly.

What?

“She tried to share it!” I protested. “Your son threw her out then. And now she was in there when your came and threw her out again!”

“How rude!” she told me, clearly meaning me and not her annoying little moster.

She grabbed her kid while telling him that he couldn’t play because “some parents think the playground belong to their children” and other things.

I tell you, one of the toughest things I faced being a dad was at playgrounds: restraining myself.