Guillermo Amador There was a kid running at the neighborhood pool the other day. The pool attendant asked him to walk — as pool attendants have done since pools existed. The boy’s dad — a big-chested, serious kind of guy — came over to the attendant and told him (I swear I’m not making this up), that as the child’s father, he’s the only one to tell his kid what to do, and that if the attendant has something to say, it should be directed at him, don’t talk to his kid; he’ll decide if his kid needs direction.
The attendant kept his cool (I would have rolled my eyes or worse) and replied — carefully — that it was his job to make sure that people follow the pool rules, and “no running” is pretty much the universal pool rule. The dad pushed back and added some aggressive posturing to intimidate the pool guy, saying that he didn’t see anything wrong with what his kid was doing, so, as far as he was concerned, the pool guy needs to back off. In summary: The kid was free to run at the pool because the dad said so, fuck the pool rules, (this is America!) nobody tells my kid what to do except me.
Uh, ok.
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