Don't Say Anything

That was a request from my son today -- and I heard it last week as well.

As I worked the polls at his elementary school this afternoon, Christopher and his friend walked to my car and where I was. Both waited on me to finish my shift at 4 p.m. While I wrapped up and turned over my literature to my replacement, I saw some middle school kids messing with the many campaign signs posted around the school's perimeter. They were pulling them out of the ground -- which was very hard and required us to use extreme force and a sledge hammer to get signs in the ground -- and then walking around with them. I said in that direction, "Hey, leave those alone."

"Mom, don't say anything," said my son.

I looked at him and thought -- this is now the second time he's asked me not to be forthright and stand up for something. What? My son knows my personality and yet, is asking I don't say anything.

Last week, a boy was loudly cussing, using the really bad word at a girl across the street. Both started yelling and cussing at each other. Parents, kids, teachers . . all were around and could hear loud and clear the comments. I was at the stoplight closest to the boy, so I rolled down my window and before I said anything, my son said, "Mom, don't say anything."

I didn't, but as we drove away I let him know boys should never talk to girls that way and if I ever hear him using that language especially when talking to a girl, he won't be able to talk for a very long time because I will have popped him in the mouth so hard . . oooh.

All that lesson aside, I guess I'll have to cool it when I am in front of him. Maybe I point out what is wrong with the action I'm observing and let him form his own conclusions. Maybe I keep my mouth shut and let the punks do what they will . . .

Naaah, that ain't happening. I going to say something.