Saturday Confession: I’m Looking at You, Coconut Head

When our son was three, I took him to a McDonald’s play place. He zoomed to the top and hung out there for awhile. I kept looking but didn’t see him on the move. It wasn’t long before I heard crying.

It was him.

I climbed through the maze and made my way to the top. A pre school crowd gathered around him to comfort him, until they saw me. And zoom, everyone was gone.

I asked what was wrong and with big tears and a shaky voice, he confessed a kid called him…coconut head.

Once I talked him down to the ground and we discussed building up, tearing down and choosing to receive negative words, we went home and I thought it was over.

I’m not kidding, for two years I would walk in on him playing. Whether it was soldiers or stuffed animals, he re enacted that scene. The difference was, in his role play, he got the last word.

This week I’ve wanted to get out my toys and role play. Our son isn’t three but he got a verbal smack down from an adult that hurt him as much as coconut head did. Like that day at McDonalds, he didn’t do anything to bring it on. In fact, in this case, he took steps to make sure he did all the right things. I suspect the adult forgot and needed to cover their behind and my kid got it. When I tried to get clarification, I was pretty much called a coconut head and the discussion was shut down.

Permanently.

I responded with a blessing. I wished them well, and I meant it. It was obvious it was a fight I wasn’t going to win, and neither would our son. I’ve taught him the way we close one door is the way we open the new. Being positive was the best way to respond.

But in the minutes and hours after, I struggled with the temptation to respond.

I had the right to file a complaint, and I would have seen action come from it.

I had the right to go off on social media, and readers would have felt compassion for our kid.

I could have addressed the adult again, bringing up examples from them and others that negated everything she was saying.

And darn it, I could have called them coconut head.

As I stewed and ate my way through the anger, God kept reminding me that the door was closed and He was not approving my taking the reigns and running after a response, as justified as I felt. In fact, He threw something at me that I think has merit.

Maybe that unfair situation was His way of protecting him from future issues.

If that adult or that place has trouble down the road, my kid won’t have to worry because he wasn’t a part of it.  Whatever the case, I went to bed that night realizing God was covering my kid. Being called a coconut head or being treated unjustly stinks. But sometimes that’s part of a bigger plan that would end way worse had we stayed in it or had the last word.

So, I’m asking God to take away my temptation to respond. And give me wisdom for the next time someone I love is called a coconut head.

Can you relate?

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