Not quite 'Get off my lawn!' but exactly 'GET OUT OF MY LAUREL. NOW.'
For those of you not in the know, laurel is an enormous weed. I have 40' x 10' of it across the back of my lot. There are hundreds of trunks and it's probably 30' tall. It's a menace. I keep it controlled just enough that the city compliance guy stays off my case.
But I have a problem with a kid. Three years ago he was nine, and already the ringleader. He knocked on my door and asked if he could play in my tree. I said 'Thank you for asking! Absolutely! There are only two rules: if you bring something in, take it out when you leave. And keep one foot on the ground at all times.' This wasn't what he had in mind, of course; the thing is great for climbing. But he and his pals did great at this for awhile. Then I caught them climbing, and when I caught them again, I posted 'KEEP OUT' signs and told them that they had broken the rules and were not allowed to play there at all.
Today I caught him (now age 12) and a buddy about 10' up. This is the fifth time for him. Took their photos (up and down), and said 'Ok, DJ. This is it. Let's go see your mom or dad.' Kid starts fake-crying, and I say 'Nope, not doing that. You broke the rules repeatedly, and now there will be consequences. Stand up and face them.' Kid says, 'My dad is going to ground me forever,' and I say 'I'm ok with that.' By the time we got to his dad's, he and his buddy were genuinely ugly-crying - wobbly jaws, snot, copious tears.
I introduced myself and said how I knew his son. I talked about how I appreciated that the kids are outdoors and not glued to screens, and that DJ is smart, outgoing, and a clear leader. But. Etc. Dad was unhappy and disappointed, and said to the kid 'You walk with Jason to his house, and by the time you get back I will have figured out what the consequences are going to be for this,' which set both kids bawling. Two crying boys and I walked several blocks to Jason's house. We had to run a gauntlet of DJ's friends, who were saying 'Hey man where you going, what's up, what's wrong' because he was practically crawling so they couldn't see his tears. I said 'Give him room, guys, he's having a bad day.' Got to Jason's house, where Jason screamed, burst into tears, and shoved past his mom as she came down the steps. His mom rounded on DJ and said 'Where you two been? We been looking all over for you,' and I said 'In my laurel,' and showed the photos. I mentioned that I'd talked to Jason about it twice now, and DJ five times. The mom said 'That won't happen again, and these two can't hang out together.' I said that DJ's dad said the same thing.
I walked DJ home because I wanted to make sure he went. I talked to him the whole way. I told him that other kids look up to him, and that's a big deal. It's a big responsibility to lead people in the right directions, not the wrong ones. I also told him that he's 12, and this stuff is no longer cute. He'll be becoming a man soon, and breaking rules comes with consequences that are far more serious than getting grounded by dad and a talking-to by the neighbor.
This kid was broken. He had quit lying, quit deflecting, quit making excuses. He was just crying. When we got back to his house, I said to his dad that there's a lot to like about DJ and a lot that's good about him, and I wanted to see those parts grow. I gave DJ props in front of his dad for standing there and taking it rather than being a coward and running like his buddy.
So. Obviously I don't want the kid to hate my guts. He knows where I live. And the fact that he was ugly crying for real tells me that he's not beyond reach. But his behavior was not something I could ignore, and the fact that he didn't like what resulted is not my problem. His dad responded appropriately - didn't start cussing or threatening, and in fact one tear escaped his eye, too, and the kid saw that and practically collapsed.
That's my curmudgeonly adult story for the day. I hope it's the only one I have to tell for several years, honestly. I don't do great with kids, so this was super stressful. Those of you who are parents, I don't know how you do it.