We were at the playground the other day when I saw the words on the right scrawled into the playset.
I'm 37; I realize people die. I realize my kids will grow up to learn and hear about all types of awful things and also live to be a relatively well adjusted 37 year old.
But this play set is at an elementary school.
An elementary school.
At a high school, sure, I can see that. Believe it or not, 18 years is a long time and things happen during long times. By graduation my class had lost 2 students that I can recall. One to murder and one to health.
But this was an elementary school.
Its funny, because a few short days later the entire interwebs blew up about the inappropriateness of a dance Miley Cyrus did during what amounts to a celebration of inappropriateness.
But people were asking how they could explain Miley to their kids, their daughters.
Honestly? If yours kid witnessed Miley's dance that night, her dance was probably about the 35th thing you need to explain. The words "Dick in a Box" were said without beeping during a portion of the show. Is it simply that Miley was a Disney child star that causes us to freak out about a poorly executed dance done at a show full of wiggling, half-naked women and videos portraying such things?
Because last I checked "Bringing Sexy Back" wasn't a wholesome song about returning a lost puppy to its home. One of the live acts was indecipherable because every third word was bleeped. That is OK and won't need explaining, but Miley, well, that's an issue? As my wife pointed out - Miley's dance occurred during a song - Blurred Lines - that talks about making bad choices after drinking alcohol. So, borderline rape you don't need to discuss; twerking and tongue wagging, though, that requires explanation?
I guess what I'm saying is this RIP on an elementary school play thing got me thinking. For the last two years my kids have largely lived in a world I've created. They know only what I introduce to them. They take in the outside world, but their minds are't even really developed enough to conjure up evil.
But that isn't going to last. Talk about blurred lines: The ones separating my perfectly unaware little ones and the real world are blurring. Today they don't notice that RIP graffiti. Tomorrow they might; and they might want to know what it means. What will I tell them? What can I tell them?