Dear Doofus...

Dear Doofus...
The kid's play area at the mall is a play area... not a babysitter. I realize that your new spiffy cell phone needs to be set up and it must be DONE. RIGHT. NOW, but meanwhile, your child is trying to climb on, bite, and otherwise torment mine. If you would look up from your finger fiddling more than once an hour, you might see this.

When I asked you "Is he yours?", it was a hint. I was hoping you would see that your child currently had his teeth embedded into my kid's arm. But no! You just smile, nod, and go back to your phone... Not once actually looking at your child.

Now, to get your child to take his teeth out of my kid's skin, I have two options. Forcibly remove him, in which case I would probably be singled out for either kidnapping or abuse, or taking my child (who was playing nicely and having a BLAST) out of the play area, which would break her little heart.

Or, you know, you could watch your kid like you're supposed to and keep this horrible fiasco from even starting.

So, please, dad on the cell phone... Look up once in a while. At least check on your kid. And please get that kid a mouthguard... those teeth are sharp!

Thanks!