“Why didn’t you get her out when she said she didn’t want to play anymore?” I asked Kelsie, trying to keep my voice steady, though my insides were anything but. I was a volcano, ready to erupt.

Kelsie put her phone down, finally giving us her full attention. She sighed, as if I was the one being unreasonable. “They need to learn to stick to decisions, even if they’re uncomfortable,” she explained, sounding like she was reciting a college textbook. “It’s part of their development.”

Development? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. No development should involve locking a child in a cage. It was absurd. This wasn’t teaching resilience; it was teaching fear and helplessness.

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. “Kelsie,” I began, keeping my voice as calm as possible for the sake of the kids, “this isn’t about building character. This is about Ellie feeling safe and respected. I trusted you with my children, and this… this is not what I expected.”

Kelsie shrugged again, seemingly unfazed by my words. “Your choice,” she replied, looking back at her phone as if the conversation was over.