Snow has fallen on Stora Essingen during the night. I walk out to the bike, which is locked outside of the gate. Two children ten years old can walk to school and doing typical barngrejer – they push on each other, hugs, snowballs and throws against the road signs.
At the parking lot throwing one of the kids a snowball against a parked van. The other laughs, hugs a snowball and throws another one.
and responsible corporate citizen breaks I check in my most imperious manner. I bikes up close to the children, lowers the speed when I pass them and staring angrily at the kids in silence as a mark of their action is wrong.
the One chick is staring back.
I continue to stare at my most quiet and most angry way.
in the schoolyard. Now have other adults responsible for children’s behaviour again. I feel satisfied with my effort, my courage and my courage. I cycle on towards the job, prouder than in a long time.
the Bet was not just a sign that I have matured and taken hold of my fear of conflict. I acted forcefully, directly and without fear to get a snowball into my neck when I rode away.
Not until halfway to work I realize that my actions may not get the desired effect. A frozen 28-year-old in small-cap, and with immiga glasses that stirrandes bikes up close, two children, and staring at a schoolyard is not the epitome of a person who is acting powerful. Silent staring man on a bicycle outside a primary school usually mean something else entirely.
Anton Säll is on parental leave, the reporter on the Stockholmsredaktionen and doing the best he can. Read also his columns about the growling babies and the inherent nihilism in cross-country skiing .