By Laura Luna
I don't get hysterical often.
There was the one time I was doing
laundry and I reached into my four year old son's
pant pocket and pulled out two wet, slightly
squished snails. I screamed so loud my husband ran
in to see if I was okay. I did that "ohmigawd, I'm
so grossed out" dance and flapped my arms
uncontrollably. Ick!
Now we have a "No living creatures
in pockets" rule.
My son will be six next month.
Last Friday I picked him up from Kindergarten and
another mom stopped to talk to me. I kept my eye on
Sam as he peeked through the shrubbery on the school
grounds. He collects rocks and acorns and other
little treasures he finds. After a few minutes he
became bored, I gave him the keys to the car and
told him to open the door for me. I said good-bye to
the other mom and got into the car. As I turned over
the engine I saw something out of the corner of my
eye run under the brake pedal. I bent down to look
and another creature scooted by, this time over my
foot. I tried not to scream.
I asked Sam how many lizards he
let loose in the car. Two, he said. I told him we
weren't going anywhere until the lizards were out of
the car this minute! But they're blue bellies, he
argued. If they weren't out of the car they were
going to be squished bellies!
He complied.
Now Sam's a good boy and always
obeys the rules we set for him. I rarely have to
talk to him about minding. There was only the "no
living creatures in pockets" rule established, which
he had followed. How could I be upset? I never said
anything about creatures in the car.
As of Friday we have a "no
reptiles anywhere near your mother" rule. I'm hoping
that will be generic enough!
---
Laura Luna is an Early
Childhood Educator and mother of two children, Sam
and Sarah. She is also an internationally published
poet and freelance writer.
http://larleaves.homepage.com/stuff.html
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