How do you feel about random strangers who touch your child? (I don’t mean that kind of touching–I leave those posts to Theodore.) I’m talking about people who come up to our baby’s stroller and put a hand to his face. Or encounter him in a booster seat at the coffee shop and pick him up for a hug. You wouldn’t make anything like that much physical contact with an adult, except through clothing–a slap on the back, say, and even that can feel intrusive. Yet, when it comes to people who are even less able to defend themselves, or reject the approaching contact, it’s somehow considered okay.
The other night, at a local restaurant, our son was picked up out of his booster seat three times in the course of the meal–twice by one person, and again by another. That last new pal was particularly memorable: He was a white-haired grandpa, a Kirk Douglas lookalike, who got up from his seat to stop by our table, chatter with our little guy, engage him thoroughly, and then–with a rather endearing awkward pause–ask us, nicely, “may I pick him up?” He was with a nice-looking older lady, his wife or girlfriend, and she chatted with us while he and our son had their little moment.
A moment like that is awkward, and it makes my innards clench. But I say yes anyway–at least, when the baby-picker-upper asks first–because I want to believe that we are not living in the deeply toxic stew of pathology we sometimes feel we are. After all, we’ve all spent 30 years marinating in the idea that predators are everywhere. Missing kids appear on milk cartons, and nobody’s allowed to play outside unattended anymore. You can locate the sex offenders in your neighborhood in a moment’s Googling, and I certainly have. But you know what? We really aren’t living in a sea of dangerous people. Yes, there are freaks and crazies out there–but everyday middle-class life does not encounter them except in statistically insignificant numbers. I want to believe–and I live my life as if I do believe–that even in New York, the crazy-street-dude capital of the planet, you can meet someone at dinner, allow him to snuggle up with your child, and come out of it not having had a dangerous moment but with a pleasant memory of a local eccentric granddad who liked your kid. It’s almost life-affirming. Almost.
I say, ‘Right on!’ to the oldie who actually *ASKED* first. I would probably say yes if most people bothered to ask the question; and yes, I would tend toward the “Oh, good, there ARE still nice people in the world who stop to talk to babies” school of thought.
What skeeves me and ANGERS me to no end, however, are the intrusive jackasses who just reach in and grab at my child with no regard whatsoever for her personal space. She’s five now, and it STILL happens. I was standing in the checkout line at a craft store a few months ago, for example, when a loud, overbearing woman began trying WAY too hard to engage my shy child, who was sitting in my shopping cart. She was clearly feeling bashful about the woman’s attention and relentless attempts to get her to talk, so she decided to hit the inner mute button. So crazy lady proceeds to effusively compliment my child on her hair bows, and then moves in way too close to grab at them. The poor child was clearly uncomfortable and I wanted to scream, “HANDS OFF, FREAK!!! If she doesn’t want to talk to you, I don’t think she wants your hands all up in her face!” I mean, really: In 2010, why don’t people have the common sense not to touch a child they don’t know? I don’t think any stranger should touch a child without asking first. And if permission is granted, you BAIL on the contact if the kid clearly sends the SOS vibe. I flirt with babies in restaurants all the time without getting out of my chair, and I am sure to take my attention away if the kid is getting distracted from the meal his parents are trying to feed him. You don’t have to touch every baby you think is cute.
Yet, there’s something different about the quirky grandpa who kindly asks first….(And I say this even as a first-class germophobe.) 🙂
I’m not worried about crazy people doing weird things to my kids as much as I’m worried about them sneezing on them or just scaring them. My 10-month old twins are very shy and definitely give the “back off” signal loud and clear when their personal space is violated. So far I haven’t had anyone try to handle them without permission, but that might be because of my body language. I tend to get between a would-be cheek-pincher and the girls. That’ will be more difficult when the kids are running around. Having strangers want to hold the babies is a lot less weird than when they wanted to feel my pregnant wife’s belly.
Jill: I’m with you, all the way.
Beta Dad: As it happens, I am fairly shy with strangers, but my kid is the opposite–open, chatty, and super-social. So that, at least, isn’t part of the equation.
But as for the pregnant-belly thing… yeah. There are some creepy dudes out there.
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