These days, it's the Wild West on the hot macadam plains of Underhill Playground. 

A backdrop to scenes of both great cooperation and cruelty, the playground presents a microcosm of humanity's social nature in all its extremes. There's The Builder at the foot of the sprinklers, pouring water from bucket to bucket in some private project. The Daredevil careens around the playset, intent on mastering its every challenge. The Social Director gives out roles -- "You push and I'll honk the horn." While The Observer takes it all in from the swings. 

Ah, and here comes my son, tearing toward that girl in the red car with cries of "My turn! My turn!" His devil-may-care grin belies the seriousness of his demand. If she doesn't jump out of that car before he gets there, she's going to be sorry. While I call this self-absorbed, power-hungry, greedy aspect of his personality Lil' Napoleon, you may know him in common parlance simply as The Toddler. 

Lil' Napoleon understands the concept of sharing as it relates only to him. His turn, yes. Another child's turn? No. 

He supports his claim to toy ownershp with acts of extreme violence. His bites leave teethmarks. His scratches come near drawing blood. He once throttled his best friend because she wouldn't get off the bouncing zebra. Which is crazy, because there's two of those things!  

Typically the only parenting material I read is the wonderfully scientific and non-prescriptive Growing Child Newsletter, but even their missive on the topic provided no help. They wrote that toddlers do better sharing "when there are sufficient numbers and kinds of toys to avoid possession squabbles." 

Not in this parent's experience. Underhill -- where played-out toys go to die -- provides plenty of playthings for all. But my son's interest in any particular toy depends solely on whether or not another child is using it. When he gets that trike so-and-so was riding, he wants the push toy she grabs. When he seizes the push toy, he wants the ball she now holds. It seem he desires less the toy itself and more the power that comes with ownership and control. Often, he'll target a particular child -- usually a girl -- toy-jacking her at every opportunity. 

Some parents have no problem letting the kids figure out squabbles for themselves, to a point. That point usually lying somewhere between gentle "love-taps" and full-on punching. My Lil' Napoleon specializes in bluring that line with acts of affectionate-aggression. A hug becomes a chokehold, a kiss a bite, a head nudge turns into a thrust in the blink of an eye. So I strive to stay close even when he's at his most peacable. 

However, there are days when it feels like all my responses are wrong. I'm on him like white on rice and a mom tells me to relax. "My daughter would just hit him back. She's got an older sister who's a bully." Chastised, I decide to let him to do a lap around the equipment, thinking maybe he'll be on better behavior out from my watchful gaze. As soon as he rounds the corner I hear a woman cry "Whose child is this?!" She shoots daggers at me as I pull him away from her crying daughter. Whether it's there or not, I swear both mothers gave me a "clueless dad" eye-roll, and I can hardly blame them. I'm rolling my eyes too -- in exasperation. 

The problem is that my sense of justice bristles when he steals toys from kids, no matter if that kid tries to get it back or moves on to another plaything. The aggressive kids will speak for themselves, but I feel its my responsibility to teach him that picking on the younger, weaker, or just very chill kids is wrong. If he's driven to steal from anyone it should be the older fat cats. A Lil' Robin Hood I could abide, but nobody likes a Napoleon. 

Of course, being a toddler, he's not able to understand any of this. Still, I introduce it, not by scolding him (though I do that, too) but by talking about it with him outside of the playground. Some of it seems to be sinking in. Now, when we get to the gates of Underhill, he says, "No hit. No hit." Though he rarely follows through on this, talking the talk is at least a start. 

As you can read elsewhere on Patch, the politics of the playground will grow and become more complicated as he does. Surely his "My turn!" phase will pass and equally challenging behavior will emerge. But eventually, I trust, Lil' Napoleon will meet his Waterloo and learn how to live peacefully with others.