On a recent morning, we had a play date with friends at a fabulous local park. We were playing and visiting when a little boy showed up all alone in his Incredibles pajamas and some crocs. (I know.)

He was a cute little guy with long-ish blond curls. When he was on his way to the playground, all alone, past a large, dangerous & rocky lake, one of the women who was with us said “Oh, that kid’s here again. He’s always here alone. For the last year and a half we’ve been coming here and we’ve seen him almost every time and I’ve never seen an adult with him. He just wanders home whenever he feels like it. My mom knows their family. Mom is a C.A. and dad’s a chiropractor here in town.”

He immediately approached us and stood staring at us without a word. Being a teacher, I can’t ignore a child as my friends can so I said hello.

“Hi!” he replied. “My name’s Zach.”

“Hi Zach, how are you?”

“Good,” he said, “I live right over there.”

“Where are your parents, buddy?” I asked him.

“My mom’s at work and my dad’s at home.”

“Don’t you think you should have an adult with you? You know – in case you get hurt or fall in the lake or something…” I said, thinking maybe at the very least he’d repeat that to his parents at some point and they’d clue in.

He went on to play randomly with various children. At one point he was under the slide with our kids and I could see him talking to them and look occasionally over at us. I didn’t know what he was saying but my mommy-instinct combined with my teacher-instinct kicked in. “Zach,” I said, “You need to either use your best manners or stay away from the smaller kids please.”

“I’ll NEVER stay away from those kids!” he screamed at me.

“Oh yes you will if I say you will, kiddo. You have two choices – use your best manners or play elsewhere. Now.” Mommy off. Teacher on. If nobody else is going to discipline this kid, I sure will. Particularly if he’s playing with my son. Surprisingly his behaviour turned around for a little while. All the poor kid needs are some boundaries. And supervision.

I wasn’t sure how to handle the situation with Primo. Luckily, he just moved on and played with his buddies again, but had he pursued playing with Zach, I would have wanted to say something to the effect of “We don’t play with children like that. We choose friends who have manners and respect other people.” I don’t know what I would have said. I want to teach my children while they’re young that they have the power to make choices but I also want to make some choices for them because it’s easier.

A few minutes later, he announced that he was going home (again, past a large, dangerous & rocky lake), and looked right at our group of moms on the grass when he pointed at the playground and said “You guys had better NOT wreck this park.”

“We won’t, Pal, but it’s not yours.”

“Yes it is. My mom made it and you better not wreck it.”

“It’s not yours.” I so can’t keep my mouth shut with this kid. It’s my duty to teach him something. Heh. “It belongs to everyone, but we won’t wreck it so don’t worry. Why don’t you go home and ask your dad to come back and play with you?”

He came back not long after he got home – alone again – but played much better than he had the first time. Unfortunately, when I look into the future I see a child that’s going to be a little fart when he gets to school because he’s had relatively little parenting and will be screaming for attention. These are the kids that need the love of a teacher even more than the kids of parents like us, and now that I’m a mother I hope that I’ll recognize those needs in my students to an even greater extent than I did before. Before I was a parent, I loved children and respected their individuality and was the best teacher I knew how to be. Now, I am all that but they’re also all somebody’s baby. Somebody’s world. Somebody’s heart walking outside their body. Even this little guy – a child of two educated professionals who should have a lot more common sense – is likely the light of their life.

I want to call child welfare, though I know they won’t do anything about it. I want it to be on file in case something ever does happen. It’s neglect, pure and simple. I’d like to give his parents the benefit of the doubt. Maybe his dad was washing dishes and could see him out the kitchen window? Even so, if he were to fall and hit his head on a rock, he could be dead in the lake before his dad could get there or perhaps before he even noticed.

Would you call child welfare to report the lack of supervision? What, if anything, would you have said to Zach? To Primo?