I've been permanently wheelchair based for 30 years now, almost 10 of those in a powerchair, and I still have not worked out a tried and tested method of dealing with small children. They're tricky little devils, made worse by the baggage they bring along called "parents". To paraphrase a well known saying, I think the only predictable thing about kids is that they are unpredictable. Throw a wheelchair into the equation and it becomes a lottery.
You're OK while they are younger than about fourteen months, until then they can't move around much, and more importantly they can't speak! But after that things decline rapidly. The little guys come in four varieties ; the squashed kid, the tree climber, the question asker, and the joystick grabber.
The "squashed kid" is the least dangerous, often because they have already been squashed before you even know it. They operate at a low level, around the fringes of your space, are generally silent, often crawling, and are usually only to be found behind your back. Miniature fingers and toes always come off worse when pitted against wheelchair tyres. Add a pair of motors and a battery box to that and it is no contest. Solutions for squashed kids are to develop a strong sixth sense, eyes in the back of one's head are a must-have, and learn to drive the powerchair like a 90-year-old granny. When these fail a good set of ear plugs is recommended. One is well advised to seek solutions, particularly when in the company of good friends with their kids. Remember it is a short step from invalid friend, to kid maimer.
The "tree climber" sees you as a challenge. Not because they want to get into your mind, or because they're curious about your disability. Your chair as an obstacle, and all obstacles must be conquered. In no time at all they will be upon you, like monkey's. The nimble ones will think nothing of scrambling from the battery boxes at the back to the foot rests at the front by going right over you. None of them seem able to resist hanging off the side armrests like a cowboy in a stagecoach western movie. Whatever you do, resist all temptation to give the tree climber a ride. Who knows what monster you will unleash.
Things get considerably trickier with the "question asker". The little critters have grown to be far more cunning, and they now stalk you, waiting for the right moment to pop the question "why don't you walk?". They usually wait for you to be at your most vulnerable, such as in the company of friends when the conversation is at its most silent, in a crowded shopping mall, or in a restaurant. It's a tough one. I can't recall as a kid walking up to a black person and asking why they were black, or a woman as asking why she got big hooters? If you choose to answer the question asker be warned, by doing so you will unleash a torrent of further questions, many of which cannot be answered in good company.
Beware of parents who cannot answer "the question" themselves (or who are just as curious) and empower their kid to go bravely where no man should go and send him over to you. I mean, they won't send him over to ask the weight challenged lady at the table opposite why she's fat, but they'll send the little guy over to you and sit there waiting to see your response. This is what is known as a no-win situation. Answer the kid thoughtfully and you will open that floodgate again, chase him away and you're mean-spirited. I always choose mean-spirited, I'm sure the kids self esteem will be restored after suitable therapy.
And so we come to the "joystick grabber", the most dangerous of them all. Kids to powerchair joysticks are like moths to a candle. It's like a magnet for grasping little fingers! I'm a guy, I have a joystick. I would have thought that would be a babe magnet, but instead all I get are 2-foot terrors. The joystick grabber combines the stealth of the squashed kid, the agility of the tree climber, with the cunning of the question asker. They lurk on the fringes, feigning dis-interest and good behaviour, and then rush in to strike without warning! One minute you're sitting enjoying a peaceful conversation, the next you hear those dreaded words "what's this for?", and before you can say "Quickie" you're lurching around like a convulsing drunk.
A positive spin-off of the joystick grabbers is that they often end up as squashed kids since they most often pull the joystick towards themselves! It's a positive because this action usually cures them of their joystick grabbing vice. The negative spin-off is that after rehabilitation they are more cautious and become question askers . . .
You're OK while they are younger than about fourteen months, until then they can't move around much, and more importantly they can't speak! But after that things decline rapidly. The little guys come in four varieties ; the squashed kid, the tree climber, the question asker, and the joystick grabber.
The "squashed kid" is the least dangerous, often because they have already been squashed before you even know it. They operate at a low level, around the fringes of your space, are generally silent, often crawling, and are usually only to be found behind your back. Miniature fingers and toes always come off worse when pitted against wheelchair tyres. Add a pair of motors and a battery box to that and it is no contest. Solutions for squashed kids are to develop a strong sixth sense, eyes in the back of one's head are a must-have, and learn to drive the powerchair like a 90-year-old granny. When these fail a good set of ear plugs is recommended. One is well advised to seek solutions, particularly when in the company of good friends with their kids. Remember it is a short step from invalid friend, to kid maimer.
The "tree climber" sees you as a challenge. Not because they want to get into your mind, or because they're curious about your disability. Your chair as an obstacle, and all obstacles must be conquered. In no time at all they will be upon you, like monkey's. The nimble ones will think nothing of scrambling from the battery boxes at the back to the foot rests at the front by going right over you. None of them seem able to resist hanging off the side armrests like a cowboy in a stagecoach western movie. Whatever you do, resist all temptation to give the tree climber a ride. Who knows what monster you will unleash.
Things get considerably trickier with the "question asker". The little critters have grown to be far more cunning, and they now stalk you, waiting for the right moment to pop the question "why don't you walk?". They usually wait for you to be at your most vulnerable, such as in the company of friends when the conversation is at its most silent, in a crowded shopping mall, or in a restaurant. It's a tough one. I can't recall as a kid walking up to a black person and asking why they were black, or a woman as asking why she got big hooters? If you choose to answer the question asker be warned, by doing so you will unleash a torrent of further questions, many of which cannot be answered in good company.
Beware of parents who cannot answer "the question" themselves (or who are just as curious) and empower their kid to go bravely where no man should go and send him over to you. I mean, they won't send him over to ask the weight challenged lady at the table opposite why she's fat, but they'll send the little guy over to you and sit there waiting to see your response. This is what is known as a no-win situation. Answer the kid thoughtfully and you will open that floodgate again, chase him away and you're mean-spirited. I always choose mean-spirited, I'm sure the kids self esteem will be restored after suitable therapy.
And so we come to the "joystick grabber", the most dangerous of them all. Kids to powerchair joysticks are like moths to a candle. It's like a magnet for grasping little fingers! I'm a guy, I have a joystick. I would have thought that would be a babe magnet, but instead all I get are 2-foot terrors. The joystick grabber combines the stealth of the squashed kid, the agility of the tree climber, with the cunning of the question asker. They lurk on the fringes, feigning dis-interest and good behaviour, and then rush in to strike without warning! One minute you're sitting enjoying a peaceful conversation, the next you hear those dreaded words "what's this for?", and before you can say "Quickie" you're lurching around like a convulsing drunk.
A positive spin-off of the joystick grabbers is that they often end up as squashed kids since they most often pull the joystick towards themselves! It's a positive because this action usually cures them of their joystick grabbing vice. The negative spin-off is that after rehabilitation they are more cautious and become question askers . . .
