We took a family vacation that lasted 17 days. Our internet
was junky or nonexistent, and I’m not particularly enamored with my job right
now, so I just turned my work email off. I had warned people before I left that
I wouldn’t be available – and I wasn’t. That’s rare for me, because long ago
when I moved to part-time, I made a deal with my boss that I’d be available on
my days off if an emergency arose. Even though I’m full-time now, that habit is
a hard one to break.
In any case, on day 8 of the trip, the children acquired
pocket knives. The little one spent a car ride asking, from the backseat, for
things she could cut. I sat in the front, muttering to her father “it’s on you
to take her to the clinic when she cuts herself “. It was a good example of why
having parents willing to take different risks is nice for kids. I would’ve
just said “no” to the pocketknife. And in fact, when I was approached, I could
tell some negotiations had already taken place, and I made the quick decision
to let Ed be the bad guy. I told her to ask her father.
That was a huge mistake. Because while I see almost no
benefit to having the contraptions and plenty of risk, he sees dreams
fulfilled. How powerful is a girl wielding a pocketknife?
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