Natural Consequences

Outside the back doors of our summer location, there is a low cinder block wall. It edges a part of the playground around the trees. It's a great place to sit, and it's fun to draw on the top of it with playground chalk, something the kids do all summer long.

It's also a trouble spot. We've explained to the kids that they need to go around it rather than vaulting over it. That it's not a sidewalk, and that their feet need to remain on the ground rather than using it as a balance beam. There are three great play structures on the playground and they can practice their balance there.

We have to remind some children more often than others. Not just about the block wall, but about so many other things. Conversations about board games not being full-contact sports. Walking in the cafeteria. Picking up the toys in one area before moving on to the next area to play. Washing hands before and after we eat. Walking on the paved areas of the playground. It's not okay to take things from people when they're not looking. It sounds like a million little rules, but really, it's mostly just common sense stuff and most of the kids have zero difficulty doing what's expected of them. We're trying to keep them all safe. Big kids running over little ones isn't an option, for example.

Marcus seems to think the rules don't apply to him, though, so he gets at least one but probably fewer than three hundred reminders a day. And instead of saying, "Okay," to Cindy* and Renee* he gives some sort of snotty toned and surly acknowledgement.

He doesn't do that to me, or at least not usually. I think there are a couple reasons for that. One, I am extremely consistent. There is only one set of rules for all the kids rather than one set for some kids and another set for Marcus.

And because if he uses a snotty tone when he responds to me, he earns a serious talking to. Every time. More consistency. I'm pretty sure he's just tired of hearing from me and has decided it's more expedient to go along with what he's been told politely instead of having to take time out of his afternoon for still another conversation with me about attitude and rules and treating people with respect.

So yesterday afternoon, when it was time to come in, I blew my whistle. I brought it to summer solely for the purpose of bringing kids in when we are finished playing outdoors. It carries better than my voice and the playground is large. Two short whistles and everyone heads for the back door to line up.

Everyone who was on the right side of the playground managed to go around that little cinder block wall except for Marcus. He usually decides the rules don't mean him.

So he ran up to the low wall, slapped a hand down on it and vaulted over it.
Or sort of over it.
Okay,half of him got over it.
He scraped the skin on the inside of his left leg from ankle to mid-thigh on the cinder block top.

It was a superficial wound, not really even enough to draw blood except in one little spot. But it was a long scrape and it stung like hell. It made him cry a little. I helped him up, saying, "I hope you're okay, Buddy," and "Let's get you inside so you can wash that off a little."

And as much as I love kids, and even though I hate to see one get hurt, it was all I could do not to laugh. Had he done what all the other kids managed to do and walked around the end of the wall, he would not have scraped his leg at all. Instead he chose to flaunt the rules and it came back and bit him in the butt. Or in the leg.

He was fine today, by the way. Just a little redness. But I noticed that he made a point of walking around the wall when it was time to come in.

Natural consequences.

::snicker:::