Scene: Saturday At The Crowded Water Park
Son, 5: Moooommmmyyyy, little Timmy won't share the slide with me!
Me and Little Timmy's Mom (in unison, in the sing-song, "this is a teachable moment" voice of modern parenting): Now, boys, what's the park for? The park is for sharing.
What You Can't Say (But Wish You Could): Son, come over here. Let me tell you something. Little Timmy's an asshole. Throw him from the slide, and remember the life lesson: sometimes you need to punch someone in the nose, to get justice.
Scene: Preschool Birthday Party Thrown By Showoffy Parents Who Have Hired A Balloon-Artist/And Or Pony, And/Or Flown In A Mime From Paris
Daughter, 3: (shrieking at the sight of the clown): Get me the fuck out of here.
Me (pretending to swoon, sickened): Where did you hear those words?! You're in a time-out forever young lady. Forever. Totally inappropriate. Also -- it's not a clown, honey, it's a mime, don't you know that?
The other parents (full of disdain): She doesn't know what a mime is? Haven't you taken her to Paris yet?
What You Can't Say (But Wish You Could): Let's get le fucking fuck out of here, honey, these people are robots, grab the pony. With desperate hand signals, we'll ask the mime if he wants a ride, too.