More McDonald's Mama Drama!

What is it with me and the McDonald's Playplace? Every time we go, there is some sort of conflict. One time we went again with Ali and her kids, and a little boy accidently stepped on Volcano's hand, and he literally erupted. The whole place echoed of Volcano's screams as I dragged him out of the building, while Monkey was crying madly, "I still want to play! I still want to play!" I can still feel the disappointing looks of the other patrons, wondering why I can't control my children.

Recently, Hubby and I took the kids to the infamous restaurant after a day of shopping, hoping the kids would eat, then burn their restlessness from sitting in a shopping cart all day. Volcano decided to play while Hubby got our food. As he ascended the play structure, I noticed another, older boy follow him. My Mommy Senses could tell trouble was on the horizon.

"Go!" the little boy shouted at Volcano. "Hurry up!"

Volcano sat firmly in the plastic play structure. "You can't talk like that," he informed him.

"Hurry up!" the boy insisted, getting frustrated.

"Stop talking to me like that!" Volcano spoke firmer, standing his ground.

The little boy hit him on the back. "Hurry up, baby!" he yelled, then pushed him aside and proceeded through the structure.

Volcano came out of the slide and immediately ran to me. "That boy hit me!" he said, on the brink of tears. "I told him to stop yelling at me, and he hit me!"

"I know," I told him, scanning the other people in the play area for signs of concern. "I saw him. But you did the right thing, using your words and telling him to stop. I'm proud of you." I continued to look around the room, but the other parents continued eating.

Hubby came back in with a tray of food. "You won't believe it," I told him, arranging the food on the table. "Some little punk hit Volcano in the play place."

"Did the parents do anything?" Hubby asked, barely surprised.

"No," I gestured around the room. "I don't even think his parents are here."

We ate our lunch as a family, with Volcano rehashing the event. "That little boy hit me. I didn't even do anything." Like son, like mother.

Then we see the family behind us packing up. "Come on, Cody!" a young woman calls, "Time to go!" Out from the slide comes that little punk who hit Volcano. Apparently his mom and his sister had been sitting there the whole time, ignoring the conflict, ignoring my comments -- basically sitting there doing nothing.

"That's the boy!" Volcano pointed, frowning.

"I know..." I said, slightly shocked. I shook my head and Hubby just shrugged.

What else could we do?