I agree with @kitkat1985. The letter box flap should at least have been designed to be able to withstand the forces that a mere two year old could place upon it. After all, I would expect a new door to last at least a good twenty years, with normal wear and tear, including being played with by an inquisitive two year old.
I once took pity on a mother who was lonely and unpopular who had two young boys, under five, and similar ages to my children. They systematically broke five significant toys including my son’s bike, a trampoline, the Wendy house door, etc. I took issue with the mother who then asked her two little boys to come to her. She then, in a pathetic baby voice, told them that it wasn’t very nice to break other children’s toys, then told them to go off and play nicely. Needless to say, they took absolutely no notice of her! I realised then why these two boys and their mother were so disliked(and they didn’t have special undiagnosed needs). Needless to say, they weren’t invited again, although I felt bad.
In her shoes, I’d have taken my children home at the first hint of not playing and respecting other children’s toys. I would then have banned tv or something at home and an early night to enforce my message. I would have made it abundantly clear to them that I wouldn’t tolerate that disrespectful behaviour.
Another time a friend came round with her usually well behaved two year old to play with mine. I was eight months pregnant and supposed to be ‘resting’. I’m the type of mother who has absolutely nothing dangerous/poisonous/unchildfriendly within reach, and even then behind a stair gate and locked. I’ve always been a very belt and braces type of mum, because too many times I’ve personally seen the absolutely traumatising and horrific effects of children, if they’re ‘lucky’ being admitted to paediatrics, or worse if they’re ‘unlucky’, who’ve taken ‘sweeties’(paracetamol, ibuprofen, etc), for instance out of mum’s handbag. I‘ve dealt with one set too many of relatives and parents in the relatives room, giving unbearable bad news. So it didn’t dawn upon me to check up on another mother (who also happened to be a nursery nurse) who came into the house. Never again... We went out into the garden as it was such a hot day. Little did I realise that the mother had left her open handbag in the house, with make up in, on the brand new carpet(lounge-diner) I’d just had installed two days earlier.
I suddenly realised that the children were suspiciously quiet, so went indoors, followed by my friend. We were confronted by two two year olds, faces covered in make up, but not only that. They’d also drawn absolutely all over the vast expanse of carpet “pretty” pictures, that we saved for, so not even a rug would have covered it. They’d used my friend’s bright blue eye shadow, bright red lip stick, black eye liner, blusher and foundation. At least this mother had the decency to be absolutely mortified and literally scooped up her DC and took her home, promising me that she’d speak to her husband and come back to me later.
She did as well, to be very fair, in absolute tears as she said she was so mortified, knowing how very careful I am. She and her husband offered to replace the entire carpet. Having just got out of the bath myself, I was able to tell her the good news. I’d sorted it, much to her astonishment.
I subsequently tried Vanish, etc to remove it, but none of it budged at all. Fortunately, I happened to be good friends with the local carpet shop man and phoned him in a complete state of desperation, as my husband was due home soon himself. The carpet shop man told me to immediately stop, then very kindly jumped into his van and came to see the damage along with a can of something mysterious and German, so don’t have a clue what it was. Thankfully it shifted the whole lot, using recommended white muslim squares and a hell of a lot of desperate, panic stricken, elbow grease! I opened all the windows to air the house as well.
Thank God it was spotless just as my husband pulled up on the drive. Eight months pregnant, a ’resting‘ me just collapsed on the sofa in a very sweaty heap. Just in time for him at ask “had a nice restful day, dear?” Needless to say, I felt like punching him, but just about restrained myself, telling him I was off for a nice cool bath (it was a hot day too), could he keep an eye on little one.
So yes, in your case, the mother should resolve it with you.
But then you do get the odd time when it’s sod’s law...
A suggestion that I’ve thought would resolve it for you though, being a metal letterbox, it probably wouldn’t have been very heat saving efficient. On our letterboxes on the inside we’ve replaced the metal flap with an insulating inside brush type letter box cover in. They’ve significantly helped resolve that nasty draft.
was probably why my children were popular and invited to other people’s house’s.