I was leaving the grocery store last night, walking back home through the parking lot, when I heard it.

“Please, mama!” the anguished voice tore at my soul. It could almost have been any of my own kids, it was so familiar. Pleading. Frightened. My heart stopped. I had to look. I was 99.9999% sure it wasn’t any of my kids, but a mother’s heart goes so easily into Protective Mode. Someone needed his mama.

I scanned the parking lot and saw a white pickup. Mom and Dad inside, window rolled down. Outside the driver’s door stood a thin boy, anxiously hopping a little, maybe ten years old.

“Bye,” Dad said flatly from within the truck’s cab. He looked away. “We’re leaving.”

My jaw dropped.

After all, here was this kid, his frightened fingers fumbling at the door handle, whatever he did or didn’t do paling in comparison to the awful fate of Being Left Alone.

The truck’s engine was running already. I turned fully to face this obviously dysfunctional family, ready to march right over there and give them a huge and unwelcome piece of my mind if they continued this any further, or to comfort, console, and care for the poor kid if they actually left him. Seriously. I was ready.

“Oh, come on,” Dad said disgustedly, “get in.”

I went on my way, still fuming. How dare these parents use such a horrible, hurtful tactic to manipulate their child!

Yeah, and then I got to thinking. As a Last Resort, *I* have stooped this low. Me. Knowing full well I’d never make good on the threat, but still. The words were said. And I’m sure they had to have an effect.

Gulp.

How many of us make threats to our kids, impossible threats we would never intend to keep, out of frustration or the heat of the moment? I think it’s common.

After about Kid #3 I started getting silly with my threats when I couldn’t stop myself from making them. Impossibly silly. “I’m going to put maple syrup on your hair and turn you into a pancake!” Or, “I’m going to bite off all your fingers one by one and use them for knitting needles!”

[I never actually said either of these, and that second one sounds horribly gruesome especially to the imaginative child, so let's just pretend I never typed that, shall we?]

Yeah, well. Even if silly, what we think of as impossibly silly, kids take threats seriously. After all, until they’re about 9 we’re like gods to them. Parents can do ANYTHING, and if they want to bite your fingers off because you were mean to your little sister One More Time, well then you’d darn well get used to holding a pencil with little stumps.

And it’s easy to say, “Hey parents! About those threats — just don’t!” in an annoying perky and know-it-allish voice, but we all know that Lines Get Crossed sometimes and there are days when we just step over the line of good parenting from the place where it’s all hugs and soft voices to the Place of Evil where our shrill voice lives, the one that sets small dogs to barking and makes small children misbehave even more if that’s possible. And when we’re over that line, well, anything can happen. Anything. We’ve all been there.

But about the threats, well, let’s just say that it’s a good idea to listen to how it sounds when it’s someone else dishing it out sometime. I promise it isn’t pretty.