Can't Touch This (dah da da dah...)

September 25, 2009

Do you remember those "choose your own adventure" books where you could read through a story, and at the end of each page it would let you choose what decision to make, and it continues the story from there? Yes? No? Well I'm going to share a scenario with you in the choose your own adventure format.

You have just gotten home after picking your son up from school, and the two of you are headed for the elevator. When you guys get on, you notice an old woman inside.

Do you live in a (a) house? (b) condo?

(a) Why is there an old woman in your house? and more importantly, who has an elevator in their house?! (I guess if you are rich enough to have an elevator in your house, you can probably afford an elevator attendant...) You greet your elevator attendant and she takes you to your floor. The day continues as normal.

The end.

(b) You smile at the old woman and proceed inside. As the doors start to close, she begins to try to talk to your son.

Does she seem (c) normal? (d) weird?

(c) "Hi there!" Your son smiles. "How old are you?" "3 years old" "Ohh, that's very big! Did you just finish school?" Your son nods. "You know, I have a grandson just around your age who goes to school too!" Your son looks bored, so you carry on the conversation, pretending to seem interested (so as not to seem rude), "That's great!" The elevator stops at your floor. "Have a great afternoon!" "Thanks, you too!" You smile and wave, encouraging your son to do the same. The day continues as normal.

The end.

(d) "Why, hello there!" Your son shyly hides behind you. "Are you hiding? I can SEE you!" Your son remains hidden, his shyness no longer the primary reason. She begins to try to look on either side of you, trying to catch your son's eyes. Your son dodges from side to side, always staying behind your legs.

What do you do next? (e) nothing (f) encourage your son to be social

(e) The lady tires very quickly, panting for breath. An awkward silence falls as she tries to convince herself that she's not weird, children are just shy. She scrabbles around in her purse for a piece of candy, finally pulling it out together with a used tissue. She offers it to your son. You recoil in unison, breathing a sigh of relief when the elevator finally stops on your floor. You start furiously jamming on the "door open" button, willing the door to open faster. Your son bolts out the door, and you follow quickly after, adding a "Have a great afternoon" as the doors close. The day continues more or less as normal.

The end.

(f) You try to dodge your son so that he can make eye contact with the lady and see, after all, that she's not so bad. You stop after he begins to clutch onto you with an iron grip and you catch a glimpse of the fear in his eyes. The old lady starts to edge closer to you with a smile that seems to be lost on your son. She begins to reach out with a quavery hand.

You (g) slap her hand. (h) slap her face. (i) do nothing, expecting her to know better than to touch the kid of a complete stranger.

(g) Shocked and hurt (physically, depending on how hard the slap was), the lady moves back to the corner, smile still frozen on her face. The elevator is deathly silent as the floors pass by slowly. Your son looks at you in a mixture of awe and disbelief. As you leave the elevator, you are unsure whether to be pleased or upset with yourself. The day continues more or less as normal. You sleep a little better than usual that night.

The end.

(h) Yeah right.

(i) The quavery hand continues to approach your son, as he squeezes himself against the wall hard enough to leave an impression. She pats him on the head and tousles his hair as he squirms underneath her wrinkly hand. Your son looks up at you with a look of betrayal as you alternate between hating yourself and wondering if it's too late to slap her face. As the two of you leave the elevator, your son keeps his eyes on the floor. Your day has been ruined, although he recovers immediately, racing for his toy box.

The end.

Anyways, old people always try to touch Nathan. Sometimes I subtly block them with my body, sometimes Nathan dodges them all by himself. And yes, sometimes I do nothing. What's the deal with people trying to touch Nathan anyways? Don't they have any self control? Maybe the next time some old guy tries to pat Nathan on the head, I'll pat him on the head. See how he likes that.

dah da da dah....

Don't touch him.