stranger danger

I’ve decided there is such a thing as over preparing a child for life in general.

My boy Rex is a funny little fellow. He’s friendly and happy and frequently terrified. To be honest, we never quite know what he’s going to do next.

Last weekend we had a yard sale. You would think that an anxious child like Rex would be worried about our things, but it turned out he was the world’s greatest yard salesman. Every person who stopped was given a grand tour of our wares and a hard sell, courtesy of my five-year-old.

“And here!” he’d say, “Look at this great baby thing! You can buy all the baby things from my mom, right over there! She has a baby named Georgia! Do you have a baby who can use this thing?” You never know how a kid will react until they’re under the gun.

The mister and I love to travel and routinely take our kids excursioning. Like all young parents who watch too much news, we’re overly cautious and paranoid that the moment we turn our backs someone will steal one of our children.

To prepare them for this potential thievery, we’ve taught them all to stick close to Mom and Dad because everyone knows that tantrum throwing three-year-olds are highly abductable.

With preschool out for the summer, I have once again been plunged into full-time parenting. Junie and Rex are home all day long and no thanks to the legal system, I get to stay here with them. In order to make this summer less miserable for everyone I’ve come up with a list of places to visit, starting with our local children’s museum.

Last week I packed up the three youngest and met my sister-in-law at the museum for a leisurely mid-morning outing. I asked myself, what kid doesn’t love a children’s museum?

Rex. Rex does not love the children’s museum.

Unfortunately for us we arrived at the same time as a busload of unruly elementary school children. It was total mahem. Children and chaperones running everywhere, trying to play everything at once.

“Mommy!” Rex would holler any time I achieved more than a four foot distance from him, “Where are you going? Don’t leave me Mommy! SOMEONE WILL STEAL ME!” He would then look at me with those big blue eyes, brimming with potential tears, cling to my hand like an ivy plant on miracle grow and cast suspicious glances at the pregnant woman sitting next to me. Cause we all know what she was planning. Who wants a new baby when you can steal a fully grown five-year-old in the throes of a panic attack?

Once the waters cleared and the busload of children departed, we were left with a few extra toddlers and an entire museum to ourselves. And that is when Rex discovered The Barn.

Complete with a milkable cow, two sheep, a goat, pigs, and chickens, he was in future farmer heaven. When it was time to leave he broke down in tears once more.

“But who will be their farmer?” he cried as we left. “The chickens will get so lonely without me, nobody will love them and help them find their little chicks! What if someone steals the chicks? Who will protect them so they don’t get stealed?”

Hey, it’s a good thing I love him so much because that one isn’t going anywhere. Honey, get the basement finished; at this rate he’s going to be with us a long time.