Little Lady Laundry

I go to the laundromat about once a week. I pay $4, in return for which the filth and fustiness of my clothes is taken away. I sit there for an hour, generally reading, writing, or playing sudoku. 

I despise the laundromat. It is the greatest symbol of vanity in existence: no matter how many times I was my clothes, they are once again dirty. This being said, the laundromat has another interesting characteristic, which is what I wish to discuss right now: children. 

If there are any children present, there are almost always at least three. Sometimes there are as many as seven, often from one or two families. They run around, screaming and hitting each other or strangers, completely unsupervised by their parents. 

One day a while back, a girl, whom I will estimate to have been about two- or three-years-old, sat down beside me while I was reading. She gradually moved closer, until she was finally leaning against me. Her mother just happened to notice, at which point she said, "It looks like you made a friend." I'm unsure to this day which of us she was talking to. She then resumed the ignoring. 

Soon enough the girl jumped off the bench. Instead of walking away, she climbed onto my knees. I do not say my lap, as the book was blocking my lap. I put my book down, not wanting to risk her falling from the edge of my knees. She slid back into my lap and rested her head on my chest. Her parents never even seemed to notice. 

She was a sweet girl. I'm sure, given her bent toward climbing into my lap, her parents are kind and affectionate. But why aren't they protecting their daughter? I would advise against letting strange men play with your daughter, but infinitely more against letting him hold her unsupervised near the door of the laundromat. 

I get frustrated about this: children are a wonderful gift from God and need to be shepherded, not thrown amongst the wolves. I'm not a father. I'm certainly no expert in the subject of parenting. But that much I know. 

I go to the laundromat about once a week. I pay $4, in return for which the filth and fustiness of my clothes is taken away. I sit there for an hour, generally reading, writing, or playing sudoku. 

I despise the laundromat. It is the greatest symbol of vanity in existence: no matter how many times I was my clothes, they are once again dirty. This being said, the laundromat has another interesting characteristic, which is what I wish to discuss right now: children. 

If there are any children present, there are almost always at least three. Sometimes there are as many as seven, often from one or two families. They run around, screaming and hitting each other or strangers, completely unsupervised by their parents. 

One day a while back, a girl, whom I will estimate to have been about two- or three-years-old, sat down beside me while I was reading. She gradually moved closer, until she was finally leaning against me. Her mother just happened to notice, at which point she said, "It looks like you made a friend." I'm unsure to this day which of us she was talking to. She then resumed the ignoring. 

Soon enough the girl jumped off the bench. Instead of walking away, she climbed onto my knees. I do not say my lap, as the book was blocking my lap. I put my book down, not wanting to risk her falling from the edge of my knees. She slid back into my lap and rested her head on my chest. Her parents never even seemed to notice. 

She was a sweet girl. I'm sure, given her bent toward climbing into my lap, her parents are kind and affectionate. But why aren't they protecting their daughter? I would advise against letting strange men play with your daughter, but infinitely more against letting him hold her unsupervised near the door of the laundromat. 

I get frustrated about this: children are a wonderful gift from God and need to be shepherded, not thrown amongst the wolves. I'm not a father. I'm certainly no expert in the subject of parenting. But that much I know. 

Little Lady Laundry