If you slapped me, would I slap you back?

I was walking to the subway after work today, and heard this small voice say ‘hello’. I looked over, and noticed this little boy in the back seat of a car. At first I got nervous, and wondered if he was calling for help, but then I saw his big sister in the front seat on the cell phone. He was eating a lollipop, and smiled and waved at me. So cute. I think that all the news this last week (about John Mark Karr suspected of killing JonBenet Ramsey, and the girl Natascha Kampusch who just escaped after being kept prisoner in a man’s house for eight years) has done a number on my head. It also made me think about this one time when I was working in a record store, I was helping this father and son. This store, Musica, allowed people to listen to CD’s before they bought them. The sucky thing was that employees would have to stand behind these mini counters, and play the CD for people – they weren’t allowed to do it on their own. So I was helping this man and his little boy one day, and as I skipped from one track to the next, the boy made some comment about not liking the track. The father proceeded to slap the boy across his face. It was insane. It came out of nowhere, and it was loud. Like a loud smacking sound. I was stunned. I didn’t know what to do. I just stood there. And then I think at some stage my manager came over, and told me to go stack some CD’s, at which point she took over. For ages I felt guilty, like I should have done something or said something. I even imagined slapping the father back. But in these moments, it’s sometimes impossible to do or say what you’re feeling. Even for someone as confrontational as me.