If the Crips Were Parisian Children

The playground is a war zone. That’s what I learned my first day on the job. Children are scary creatures, but never in all my years babysitting (15—I come from a huge family) have I seen such organized acts of defiance. 

The playground where I take Big C and Little C (sisters, I’ll call them Clotilde and Chloe for the sake of the family’s privacy) is split between two warring factions: the public school kids and the private school kids. C&C belong to the latter. The public school ruffians apparently want to oust the private school kids for good. Every day, they work toward this goal. Chloe (Little C) is content swapping stickers with her first grade friends, but Clotilde (Big C) likes to play with the boyz. This is what it looks like, except more violent, and with sticks and girls:

Initially I was inclined to dismiss the public/private school warfare as an early form of flirtation, since it’s pretty physical and both girls and boys get involved. I thought, no big deal. Kids figuring out where they stand. Negotiating gender relations and stuff. But as Clotilde informed me, red-faced, “It is not a game!!!” 

I knew something bad was brewing when one public school kid (dressed in pretty fancy duds) began to crack his knuckles in an exaggerated display of menace. Then out came the sticks. I told Clotilde, “No sticks.” But Clotilde is rebellious.

Sure enough, moments later she began pelting handfuls of dagger-like branches at another child. I jumped up, grabbed her by the arm and scooted her right outta there—she cried, but then I regaled her with a (fictional) cautionary tale about a girl I know who was blinded by sticks. Alas, little Chloe’s response? “But we have TWO eyes” (implying that one’s just there for backup). 

I can see that it is going to be difficult for me to keep these children alive. Just as difficult as it is going to be for me to order lunch. (I ordered steak tartare just now in order to justify my use of the internet at this cafe, and I got duck confit, not that I’m complaining.) 

However, we rounded out the evening with some lovely bonding time over dinner. In case you’re curious, it’s true: French kids DO eat healthily: 

Yup, those are roasted veggies you’re looking at, which they ate with a side of ham. Healthiest dinner I’ve had in months.